


Come Holidays or Harsh Words

by Anguisette90



Series: High Water [3]
Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Accidental Almost-Murder, Angry Sex, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Commands, Compulsion, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Family Drama, Fancy Gala, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Misunderstandings, New Year's Eve, Orders, Secrets, Sex in a Car, Violent Sex, Winter!Harry, Winter!Molly, dad!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anguisette90/pseuds/Anguisette90
Summary: "How the hell did we get here?"She laughed softly. "Same way we've wound up anywhere in life - love, and the crazy things we'll do for it."Now that Harry and Molly don't have to sneak around and stress about Mab or the Carpenters finding out they're together, they're ready to settle down into their new life. Of course for the two of them, that's easier said than done, especially when their missions don't go as planned, faerie secrets abound, tensions run high and the holiday season (already stressful enough for the average person) gets a hell of a lot more complicated.
Relationships: Molly Carpenter/Harry Dresden
Series: High Water [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595575
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You're still here?! At this point, I'm judging you almost as much as me. =)
> 
> (Hopefully) for your reading pleasure, here are several chapters of more drama and angst than you can shake a stick at, moments so sweet and fluffy they can only be described as cotton candy, some much-needed unloading of emotional baggage, shameless smut, shame _ful_ smut, and sometimes there's even plot. 
> 
> If you haven't read parts one and two yet, go do that. Or don't. I'm an obsessive loser, not a cop. You do you, buddy.

The kid was angry. In my time as a Warden, I’d seen my share of scared, hopeless, desperately angry kids. Teens who felt like their world had turned upside down and that life was a cruel, senseless thing. A kid like that would do anything to feel like they could change things, desperate for even the tiniest shred of control over their own lives. I should know. I’d been one of them once upon a time. That's how I knew what was going through the head of the kid in front of us. And how I knew he was dangerous.

“If we press him, he's going to blow,” I said quietly.

Molly glanced at me over her right shoulder, irritation distorting her lovely features. “Yes, I'm aware.”

Of course she was. Molly had been one of those kids too. I nodded. “Let me handle it. I've done this sort of thing before a few times. I might be able to talk him down.” I started forward, but Molly put her arm out, barring my passage. 

“No. We will move forward and capture him, by force if necessary.” Her tone brooked no argument and her jaw was set with determination.

“Just let me try talking to him first.” I insisted with a frown. “This doesn’t have to end in a fight.”

She looked at me sadly for a moment before composing herself back into the smooth, emotionless mask of the Winter Lady. “Yes, it does.”

“Not if I can help it.” I pushed her arm aside as gently as I could and moved toward the kid, my hands raised palm out in a gesture of goodwill.

“Stop!” Molly’s voice cracked like a whip and I found myself frozen in place, incapable of moving. In my peripheral vision, I watched her step forward. She looked at me as she passed. “There is only one way this will end. He knows it as well as I do.”

The kid nodded once in acknowledgment, his eyes manic. He had dark hair that fell into his face, blowing gently in the breeze. I’d never been to this part of the Nevernever before, but under different circumstances, I’d have enjoyed the trip. The sky overhead was perpetually night, but filled with softly glowing lights too numerous and colorful to be stars (or, at least, our star system.) The ground was covered in a thick purple grass-like substance that carried a faint scent of wildflowers. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Well, except for the pile of corpses.

Apparently, the young man in question was volunteered as tribute to the war effort, along with several others in his village. He and his friends disagreed with their conscription – strongly. When Mab’s men arrived to take them, they demonstrated their stance with a few homemade explosives and stolen weapons. They’d taken out a good chunk of the soldiers with their initial round of incendiary devices, but unfortunately not all of them. And it turns out that while the youth resistance had greater numbers, the soldiers had weapons training, combat experience, and superior armor. Dead bodies, children who couldn’t have been much older than Maggie, littered the ground, fallen on top of roasted chunks of Winter’s finest. Only one child was left standing.

“Bring it, bitch.” He snarled, standing tall, shoulders back, unafraid. “I refuse to be your pawn.”

“Then you are a traitor.” The Winter Lady sneered. I fought to regain control over my body to no avail. All I could do was watch as she stalked forward, moving sinuously, like a jaguar hunting its prey. Her beauty and raw sensuality cut like a knife, stirring both fear and desire on a purely primal level that could not be resisted. “You live to serve your Queens and to follow the Law.’”

He spat at her. “Go fuck yourself, whore. I’ll never serve you or that self-important bitch that calls herself Queen. If you want a war fought, fight it yourself.”

“Youth does not excuse idiocy.” Her hips rolled as she walked, which was distracting in the form-fitting black leather armor she wore. God bless him, he was trying not to notice. “I _am_ fighting. As are the Queen and Mother. I know my purpose with perfect certainty, just as you know yours.”

He laughed, too frantic and high-pitched. “To join your army? Fight in your hopeless battle? Die for your cause?”

“No,” She reached the child and my heart started pounding twice as hard. I struggled to focus, to fight the compulsion she'd put on me, but I couldn't even feel it and I couldn't draw in enough power to distract her or intervene. “That _was_ your purpose. You have betrayed your court. Treason carries only one punishment. You know why I'm here.”

I saw fear flicker across his face for just a moment before he set his jaw, standing his ground. “I do.”

A flurry of snow surrounded Molly, ice spreading from her feet and crusting her armor even though the temperature was in the high 60s (practically tropical compared to the Chicago winter we'd come through to get here. ) She reached one hand out, caressing his face. He stared straight ahead. I could smell the fear wafting off of him, but you'd never know it looking at him. I admired the kid. “So young. Not even a man yet.”

“I've a mind to show you just how much of a man I am, cunt.” He snarled. She laughed and moved in close to him, her hand on his chest.

“I've a mind to let you at that.” She said with a grin. “It would only be fair.” She ran her hand down, lower and lower, caressing her way to just above his crotch and hovering. “Tell me, have you known the pleasures of a woman’s company yet?”

“None of your fucking business.” He snapped. She laughed again.

“Of course you haven’t. I can practically smell the pent up need in you.” She withdrew just enough to put her leather-clad bosom on full display for him. “Tis a pity. You'd have made a fine soldier, perhaps even a general.”

“If I could go back, that's what I’d do.” He said quietly. “Go along with them. Do my best.” My instincts started screaming at me. This boy had been sneering and angry the entire time. Why go cold, now? 

“Mo- My Lady,” I called. Oh good, whatever she'd done hadn't affected my vocal cords. She ignored me. 

“Yes, “ She agreed with him. “That would have been the smart thing to do. If you'd gone along your friends would still be alive.”

“Lady Molly,” I called, caution in my voice.

“Knight, I am busy taking care of this situation.” She responded tersely. “I will handle you when I'm done.”

“You’re right.” The kid replied “It would have been the smart thing to do. I guess I'm just not that smart.”

“Molly. Think.” I yelled, hoping that she wouldn’t smite me for omitting her title. “Doesn't he remind you of someone?”

“Irrelevant.” She scoffed but I could see her subtly shift as she considered it. 

“See, if I was smart,” The kid said with a grin “I'd have joined and waited till I was a commander, trusted and loved, and then I would push that frigid cunt you serve right through the Gates and watch the Others tear her apart, mind, body, and spirit.” He said it in the same wistful, almost apologetic tone he'd used before. “But since we're here, I'll have to settle for weakening her power.”

I was powerless to do anything but watch and shout. The kid moved fast, I’ll give him that. Before she could react, he buried a dagger to the hilt in-between her ribs. It erupted in fire and she crumpled to the ground with a wheeze. For the smallest fraction of a second, my heart stopped completely as I watched her clutch at the wound where she knelt in the blood-soaked grass. If he did it right it could be a mortal wound even without the added benefit of cold iron. But then she rolled her head back up to look at him and I saw the color drain from his face.

“Your life was forfeit when you decided to commit treason. But I would have made it quick.” Her voice was thick and sharp, like the sound of ice cracking beneath your feet when you know you’re about to plunge to the dark, freezing depths below. “For attempted regicide, and with the bane no less, you will not be so lucky.” The air around her started condensing into shards of ice.

He stuck out his chin. “It's worth it if I take you out with – ahhhh!” Molly’s icicles started pelting toward the kid and he took off running.

“Harry,” She hadn’t raised her voice but somehow I heard her as clearly as if she was right beside me. “Fetch him for me, please. Break some bones for him on the way. I don’t care which ones as long as he’s still alive.”

Without warning, my limbs were able to move again and they started working in concert to take off after the kid. I didn’t consciously decide to call on Winter, it just happened. My head was a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts and rage, ire tinting my vision red. He’d hurt Molly. He’d used iron against her, stabbed her, maybe punctured a lung from the noise she made. He needed to be crushed, dismantled, disassembled, so thoroughly destroyed that even his remaining pieces wouldn’t be able to be identified as anything remotely humanoid in shape. Part of me wanted to let him run, give him a stronger lead to make the chase that much better. But the small scrap of sanity I had left screamed that Molly could be bleeding out right now and needed immediate medical attention. I didn’t have time to hunt.

I caught up to him quickly. I’ve got ridiculously long legs, so even without my mantle’s enhancements, I can overtake most people with ease. After drawing on Winter’s power I didn’t even need to put forth an effort. I tripped him midstride and he went down on his face. He was quick, trying to scramble and claw his way back up and away from me. But I was faster. I put one boot down right between his shoulder blades and ground until I heard bones crunch. “Stay down.” I snarled. He stopped struggling. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah,” He choked out. “Dresden, the Winter Knight.”

“Good,” I growled. I removed my boot long enough to kick him in the ribs, flipping him over. “And what do you know about Dresden, the Winter Knight, son?”

He glared up at me. “Rumor has it that you used to be a good man until you became Mab’s lapdog,” He turned his head and spat out a good bit of blood. The fall must have knocked a tooth loose. “And Molly’s personal sex toy.” I kicked him in the jaw. Definitely some loose teeth now, I noted, as a few sprayed out of him. He made a noise somewhere between a wheeze and a cough that I came to realize was laughter. “Oops. Did I hit a nerve?”

I growled and hauled him to his feet, dragging him back toward Molly. He fought it of course but he weighed nothing and lacked my physical strength. I got tired of it after a few seconds and lifted him off the ground, shaking him like a rag doll. “You think you know me, kid?” I shouted. “What do the rumors say about those who get between me and my people, huh?”

It took a second for his eyes to focus and when they did he looked hesitantly at me. “They’re fucking monsters, man. You don't know–”

“You ever faced an Outsider?” I asked, squinting down at him. I had him by the back of the shirt and was dragging him along, a little too low to the ground for him to get his feet under him. 

“N-no, but–”

“Ever faced a shoggoth? Heard its victims screaming in your head and known, deep in your soul, that you were going to be next?”

I could hear his audible gulp. “Uh, no. I haven't.”

“Then it seems to me like I might know more than you here. About what the Queens do. Who they are.” We were almost to Molly and I could see that she was at least still sitting upright. “Sometimes you have to do monstrous things to stop the real monsters from winning.”

He grunted as he jostled over a rock. “That's what I was trying to do. Stop the slaughter of innocents by the millions. They rip us from our homes and send us to fight a hopeless battle. No one ever comes back. Don't tell me you wouldn't fight.”

“Fight it? Sure. I don't much care for people telling me what to do. But I’m not about to kill people who are just doing their job.” I sighed. “All wars are senseless, kid. But this one, this is to save reality as we know it. Outsiders aren't the stuff of nightmares because even in your darkest hours you couldn't fathom creatures as messed up as these guys.”

“…I really thought it was the right thing to do.” He said quietly. Most of my anger had receded and I started feeling bad for him against my better judgment. Would I have done the same thing at his age? Maybe. If I'd gotten angry enough. If I felt I was defending my friends and my home from an unfair regime. 

“Everyone's a hero in their own mind. Doesn't make what you did right.” I told him wearily, tossing him on the ground several feet from Molly. “Don't run. You won't make it.” He nodded once but as soon as my back was turned and I went to inspect Molly, he scrambled to his feet and tried to turn tail. I sighed again. “ _Forzare_.” Pure force hit him sideways right at his knees, knocking them out from under him and he was sprawled in the grass again. 

“She's going to kill me if I don't run.” He gasped, his voice frantic as he lifted himself onto his arms, trying to get up. I triggered one of my kinetic rings and turned the bones in his left shin to jelly. He let loose an ear-splitting scream. I crouched down next to him.

“ _I'll_ kill you if you try to run again. You won't get far on that leg, but I'll let you struggle for a while before I end it.” I wrenched his head, turning him so he was looking at Molly. “You see that woman there? She is the second most important person in my life. If something happens to her as a result of your actions, the entire realm will tell stories of your death for years to come. See, I try to be a good man, but my power as the Knight makes me more…savage.” I summoned the claws and dragged them down the kid’s back, making sure to break skin. “Now I'm going to go tend to our Lady. You stay put.”

I put a firm lid on my mantle, packing it away, and hurried over to Molly's side. Her face was pale as a corpse, all of the blood drained out of it, and wracked with pain. “Good job.” She said between gritted teeth. The dagger lay in the grass in front of her, singed and covered in blood. I picked it up and put it in my coat pocket. There was no need to leave iron lying about in the Nevernever, especially when it was covered in the blood of a witch, a Queen of the Unseelie Court, and my girlfriend. The dagger had burned a hole in Molly’s leather armor around the wound and the flesh it exposed was horrendously disfigured and colored shades of black, purple and red, not even identifiable as human skin and tissue.

“God, Molls. Let's get you out of here. I'll take you to Butters or-“

She waved a hand. “Our business is not concluded. I can't heal the wounds but I've stopped the bleeding.” She coughed and spat blood. Her lips quirked in a little smile. “Mostly.”

“You should really–”

Her eyes flashed, cold and flinty. “Do not presume to tell me what I should and should not do. This is Winter business and your job is to obey. If I want your advice I will ask for it.”

I almost snapped back but I bit my tongue and shoved the mantle away. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Now let's go handle the treasonous creep that tried to kill me.” I offered her my hand and she rose gracefully, holding it as though I was escorting her to a ball. She wobbled slightly when she stood but made it look as though she were intentionally brushing up against me and we stalked over to the traitor. He had dragged himself into an upright position, leaning back against a small boulder and he watched us with teary eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. All my friends are dead. I just didn't want this to all be in vain. Please, my Lady, show mercy.” He begged. 

“Don't worry. You haven't died in vain.” She said, false sweetness in her icy words. “We’ll be using you as an example for millennia of exactly why rebellion is pointless and why you shouldn’t assault a Queen. We’ll keep you on display in Arctis Tor for the whole Court to see.”

His face paled and he started blubbering. I glanced from her to him and back “Uh, milady? Can I have a sidebar with you?”

“ _What do you want?_ ” Her lips never moved but I heard her clear as day.

“ _He’s just a stupid kid. He made a stupid mistake._ ” I thought back at her.

“ _That doesn’t excuse his actions. Justice must be served._ ” I could hear her irritation but tried to ignore it. 

“ _Molly, look at him. He's terrified. He's not a great leader of a rebellion. He's a scared child, younger than you were when you knelt on a blood-stained warehouse floor while the Merlin declared your life forfeit in the name of justice._ ” I sent the image with the words – her tear-streaked face after I'd ripped off the hood, Morgan drawing his blade and advancing.

“ _Harry. Please. I know, okay. I know._ ” The echoes of her voice in my head were untouched by the resonance of the Winter Lady for a moment and I realized it was the first time she’d sounded like herself since she stepped through the portal. “ _But I have no other choice. Neither do you. It’s part of Winter Law. So please don’t try to humanize him or to stop me. I need to be Lady Molly of Winter right now. I need you to be my Knight, or at least not to get in my way._ ”

We stared at each other for what felt like a long time before I said aloud “As you wish, Milady.” I took a deliberate step back and folded my arms.

“My Knight is so tender-hearted.” Lady Molly purred, tossing her hair as she walked the last few feet to stand over him. “He has pleaded with me on your behalf.”

The kid glanced at me then back at her. “Uh. Th-thank you.”

“In deference to his fragile nature, I will make your death quick.” I ground my teeth but said nothing. I expected the kid to start crying or to be upset but he just heaved a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, my Lady. It is more than I deserve, I think.” He bowed his upper body in deference.

“It is.” She agreed “But We are not without understanding. Your valor and courage are commendable even if they brought you to this end. Will you rise for your judgment?”

“I would but uh,” He glanced sideways at me again then down at his useless leg. “I don’t think I can.” Damnit. I’d made sure the kid couldn’t even have dignity when he died. Way to go, me. Score one for the good guys. Wordlessly I pulled him up, holding him steady. I met Molly’s eyes and saw pity for just half a second and then it was gone.

“You stand accused of open rebellion against Winter Law and your queen. I, Lady Molly of Winter, have borne witness to these acts first hand. The punishment for treason is death. Is there anything you would like to say before justice is served?” Her voice was so harsh and cold it was almost unrecognizable. It hurt to hear her, to see her, so alien and heartless.

The kid looked pensive and pained, physically and mentally, but he didn't look afraid. When he spoke, he sounded as though he'd aged a decade in the course of his deliberation. “I wanted to save my friends and myself from dying at the hands of our enemies. In exchange, I bought death at the hands of our allies. I thought if I could choose my own path, I would be free.” He looked Molly in the eyes. “But there’s no such thing as freedom. We’re all shackled by the consequences of our choices, good and bad, burdened by responsibility. The more choices you make, the heavier your chains.” He looked around him, taking in the sights of his world for what he must have known would be the last time. “Or maybe not. What do I know?” He shrugged “That's all I've got.”

Molly is excellent at dissembling. She was pretty good at lying and sneaking even before she came into her powers, and both magical ability and her mantle only made it easier for her. But I'd been watching her a lot lately. I'd learned some of her tells, no matter how small. Lady Molly stood in judgment before this kid, ready to deliver execution, but Molly Carpenter had been cut to her core. She didn't want to make this choice. And she could tell herself time and again that it was the only choice to be made, that she was bound by Winter Law and had to do it, and she would be right – it was the only real choice she had. But it was still a choice. 

Her hand trembled just the tiniest bit as she reached for the blade at her hip. I'd never seen her wield a sword before – she always preferred her magic. Honestly, she wasn't really suited for combat so I never tried to teach her much in the way of weaponry, just the basics she would need to survive an attack and get out of Dodge. Still, she drew her weapon like she knew what to do with it and I suspected it wasn’t her first time doing this.

“You don't have to do this,” I said quietly, still firmly gripping the boy to keep him upright. 

“She does.” The boy confirmed at the exact same time that Molly snarled, “Yes, I do.”

I shook my head. “No, you misunderstand. _You_ don't have to do this.” Before I could stop myself or think about what I was doing I pulled the dagger from my pocket and opened the boy’s throat from ear to ear. The iron sliced through him like he was made of marshmallows, I thought clinically, when I realized the cut had practically decapitated him. It was an absurd, silly thought, comparing living flesh to candy and I almost laughed at it but something stopped me. Flames licked at the wound and burned the blood from my hand but didn't burn me. They were mesmerizing to watch but gone out all too quickly. The boy – no, the body, I corrected myself – twitched in my hand a few times then went still. 

“HARRY!” Molly shouted from beside me. It sounded like she'd probably said it a few times before. I turned to look at her and was surprised. She looked worried, really worried, and there were tears in her eyes. She never let people see her cry. I blinked at her and let the body fall to the ground. She immediately wrapped her arms around me tightly. I was going to tell her not to because I had blood down the front of me but she was pretty bloody too and it felt good. “Harry, you idiot. You didn't need to do that. It was my job.”

“I know,” I said, forcing my mouth to remember how to speak. The shock of the act started wearing off a bit and my brain started processing what I'd just done, shrieked in horror, then retreated back into numbness. “But it would have hurt you to do it. And it's my job to protect you.” I wrapped the arm that wasn't holding the knife around her.

“My Knight.” She murmured against my shoulder. 

“Among other things.” I quietly agreed and she looked up at me with a small sad smile. “Listen, there's a very good chance that I’m going to devolve into a gibbering mess about this in the immediate future. And you have a wound that would have killed you if you weren't immortal. Maybe we should get out of here ASAP?”

Her look grew more concerned but she nodded. “I've already checked in with Mab and alerted his family. They’ll come to claim him once we leave.” She took my hand in hers and pulled me through a crack in reality. I had the chance to briefly take in my surroundings on the other side as dark and cold before Molly murmured something and I lost consciousness.

I woke up in a bed so comfortable and luxurious that for a moment I considered drifting right back to sleep. Then I remembered waking up in a similar bed for months on end and my instincts went into overdrive. Without thinking I rolled over, pinning the body beside me to the bed, teeth bared and ready for a fight. Molly stayed perfectly still, staring at me. She didn't look afraid or even confused, she just looked cautious.

“I'm not sure that I'm up to that right now, big boy.” She looked thoughtful. “Though I'm sure you could always persuade me,” I growled and rolled off her onto the floor, immediately moving into a defensive position. I scanned the room – floor, walls, and ceiling – and assured myself there were no visible threats. “Uh, hey Harry, watcha doing?” Molly asked from her spot on the bed. 

“Waiting for the attack.” I used one toe to flip open the cabinet door on the bedside table but nothing jumped out. 

“Oookaaaay. The attack from what?” She glanced around warily.

“Mab. Or one of her servants. We're in Arctis Tor, right?”

“Yeaaah.” She said slowly. “In my room. Where I brought us. Why would Mab attack us?”

I forced myself to calm down. She was right. We weren't in my room where for months I’d endured physical therapy/job training in the form of daily attempts at my life. This room was dimly lit and full of dark wood and blue accents, not too different from our bedroom at home. I gave one last glance around the room to be sure this wasn’t an elaborate trap, but if it was there was nothing to indicate it. I let go of the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Sorry. Mab must buy all of her beds from the same place. Last time I slept here I’d been…” I was going to say dead for a few months but my mouth wouldn’t form the words. I frowned and tried again to no avail.

“You promised you wouldn’t talk about it.” She said quietly. “Winter keeps its promises.”

“Oh.” That was terrifying.

“I _did_ warn you not to promise me things.”

“Yeah, okay. That’s entirely my fault. I should have known better.” I conceded, trying to hide how nervous I was about how many other promises I may have made without thinking. “At any rate, the last time I spent the night here it was for a few months and the room service left something to be desired. Like not trying to kill me every day, for example.”

“What?” Molly sat up, alarmed. “Who tried to kill you?”

“It was Mab’s way of training me to be the Knight I guess. She came herself a few times, sometimes she’d have Sarissa do it, sometimes it would be malks, or giant spiders, or snakes. Poisoned food. Poisoned drinks. Hidden assassins. You name it.” I crawled back into bed, satisfied within reason that there would be no attack.

“Jesus. She really believes in the ‘sink or swim’ philosophy, huh?” Molly asked. She scooted close to me, leaning against my shoulder when I wrapped my arm around her. She was wearing a set of flannel pajamas and I realized I had on matching pants but no shirt. My pentacle still hung around my neck. “How are you feeling?” I thought about it, my sluggish thoughts congealing into some sense of coherence while I recalled what had happened.

There was a rebellion to put down. Molly had been hurt. I’d caught the kid. And then... “To the left of the table.” She said gently as I stumbled out of bed. I retched violently into the small trashcan she’d directed me to. When I’d recovered and sat back on my heels Molly was there behind me. She pressed a cool kiss to my forehead and then handed me a damp cloth. She took the trashcan and disappeared while I tried to regain my dignity or at least my sanity.

When she returned I was still seated on the floor with my back against the bed. She eased herself down next to me and said nothing, just lending me the comfort of her closeness. I eventually managed to work my mouth enough to say “Sorry.”

“For what?” She asked, smoothing my hair back from my face.

“You asked how I'm feeling.” My voice was raw and scratchy. “I'm feeling sorry.” I swallowed then added “But also for getting sick and making you clean it up. How are _you_? Your side…”

She slipped out of her shirt to reveal a thick bandage running down her right side covering the area from just below her breast to just above her hip. “It’s not as bad as it looks. There are medics on staff here and they were able to patch me up well enough. I’ll have to get my tattoos touched up once it heals and there’s no way it’s not going to scar but,” she shrugged. “Tis but a flesh wound.”

I smiled wanly. “I thought I was going to lose you for a minute there. I could have sworn he hit a lung.”

“He did.” She leaned against me, pressing her cheek to my arm. “And let me tell ya, fire and lung is not a good combination. But I’ll heal.”

I eyed her suspiciously. “You’re awfully calm and not screaming for someone with a burnt lung.”

“We have competent medics. Plus, Lea’s taught me a few different techniques for managing pain. I can sort of…forget about it? It’s not like I don’t feel it, it’s just not a problem. Does that make sense?”

“Heh, yeah. It sure does.” I’d learned those tricks too, from a fallen angel, but I didn’t think this was the time to bring it up. “I'm starting to get jealous. All my godmother ever taught me was not to make deals with her. Why does she teach you all the good stuff?”

“Because I'm willing to learn. Plus, she's just your godmother, she's _my_ mentor. She's _supposed_ to teach me stuff.”

“I’m supposed to be your mentor,” I protested with a smile.

She arched one slender golden eyebrow at me. “Oh okay. So I guess you know all about being a Queen of Winter?”

“Sure. Ooze sex appeal. Make death threats. Defend the Gates. I know everything there is to know about being the Winter Queen.”

She laughed. “You don’t even know a quarter of what there is to know about being the Winter Knight, and you are one.” She nuzzled against me fondly. “But if you insist. I guess we’ll just have to go back to secretly watching and wanting each other but never acting on it. Cause y’know. It would be wrong if you’re my mentor, right?”

“You know, I think Lea makes an excellent mentor for you. I officially relinquish my duties. 100% not your mentor here.” I hastily replied. She laughed again and moved in to kiss me. “Eugh. At least let me go rinse my mouth out first,” I protested but evidently she didn’t care, which, gross, but I wasn’t about to complain.

When she pulled away she looked me in the eyes, her expression sober. “I’m sorry, Harry. I tried to tell you not to come with me. You didn’t need to… I would have done my duty.”

“I never doubted you would, Molly,” I told her, running one hand through her soft blonde hair. I knew it was a glamour, but it didn’t matter. She wore it this way because I’d said I liked it and that made me like it all the more. “You’re your father’s daughter. You’ll always do what you’re sworn to do, even if it costs you something to do it.” I took hold of one of her hands and ran my fingers over her knuckles. “Executing that kid, it would have cost you a lot.”

“I thought it was going to cost me you, you idiot.” She said softly. “I told you, I don’t feel things as sharply anymore and I think it’s because I wouldn’t be able to do my job if I did. Yes, having to kill a child who wasn’t old enough to think through the consequences of his own actions would have hurt. He’d have joined the cast of characters that haunt my nightmares and point out what a monster I’ve become. But I’m hardwired to make those sorts of decisions, Harry. I would have survived.”

“Are you sure?” My own voice was a low rumble. “Are you sure that you would have come out on the other side of that decision yourself?”

“I had no other choice. It’s my job and my purpose to uphold Winter Law. Do I like it? No. Would I have regretted doing it? Yes. I regret that it happened at all. But would I be able to live with the decision? I don’t know. Probably better than you.” She took a deep breath, which caused her to spasm for a moment. “It wouldn’t have been my first execution, Harry. I’m not like you anymore. I’m an antihero at best, y’know? I appreciate what you tried to do, but… did _you_ come out on the other side of that decision the same person?”

“I haven’t been the same person since Chichen Itza,” I replied. “I killed Susan. What’s a little more blood on my hands?”

“You had to, Harry,” Molly reassured me after a beat. “It was for Maggie. You didn’t–”

“We always have choices. Sometimes they’re just all bad ones.” I looked at my own hands. Someone, I was guessing Molly, had washed me up before putting me to bed, but I could still see bits of blood in the creases around my fingernails, the folds of my knuckles.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that out loud,” Molly told me. Was it? I thought about it. I must have said something. “You talk about her sometimes but you almost never say her name. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her better.”

“You would have loved her,” I said, then corrected myself. “No, never mind. You would have hated her. But she would have loved you. And probably also have threatened you, a lot. Even before the incident with Bianca, she was kind of scary.”

“Well of course,” Molly said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve got a danger fetish. You wouldn’t want to be with some tame frail thing.”

“I don’t… oh god, do I have a danger fetish?” I asked in surprise. Molly just laughed and took one hand in her own. “The point is, it might be for the best that you only met briefly.”

“You’re probably right but… she’s so important to you and Maggie. I just wish I knew her better. Not that I’m trying to pry or anything,” she quickly added. “We don’t have to talk about Susan if you don’t want to. I know it hurts and you’ve gone through enough this week–”

“This week?” I interjected. “How long have we been here?”

“Today’s the fourth day. You were starting to lose it when we came through the portal so I umm. I kind of put you to sleep. Is that okay?” She cringed, waiting for me to protest. “I knew I needed to get to the infirmary right away and I knew you’d try to come with me but I didn’t want you to have to deal with everything alone and I thought some time to rest and heal would make it easier and…”

“I appreciate it,” I told her, with a kiss. “And if you wanted to know more about Susan you just needed to ask.”

“Just like that? If I want to know something I just ask and you'll tell me?” She snorted. “When has that ever been the case?”

“Perks of sleeping with me,” I said with a wink. “There's gotta be something in it for you, right?”

“Well if I'd known that… oh wait, never mind, I've been trying to do that for years anyway.” Her fingers traced lazy circles against my chest. “I'd like to hear about Susan. About what happened between you two. I feel like there's this huge part of your life that I know nothing about and you know everything about mine. But only if you’re ready to talk about her.”

I thought about it for a few minutes. It hurt just to think about Susan, to say her name. I hadn't talked to anyone in too much detail about what had happened in Mexico **.** Everyone knew the basics of course – we'd come back with one less party member and I'd been covered in her blood. But Molly deserved to know the truth. “Alright. But it's not a pretty story. You sure you want to hear it? It might change the way you see me.”

“I see you better than you see yourself, Harry. Nothing you tell me is going to change how I feel about you.” She kissed my cheek and settled against me.

“Okay. I met her a few years after I'd moved to Chicago. I’d just started my own agency and she wanted to interview me for _The Arcane_ …”


	2. Chapter 2

I told Molly everything there was to know about Susan and I. The massive disaster that was our first date, including the toad demon, the love potion and channeling magic in nothing but my birthday suit in the middle of the street. Our second first date. Our relationship. My duster. A dozen little stories of shared experiences that didn't hurt as much as I expected to remember.

It was harder when we got to the year of Bianca’s masque. I had to backtrack a bit, to fill Molly in on everything that had lead to that moment. She’d only heard the stories second-hand, eavesdropping on her parents, and it turns out Michael had a much different version of events from his perspective – or at least he told a much different version to Charity. So I gave her my recounting of everything that happened. Her eyes widened a few times when I told her of our encounters with Lea and that I'd broken my deal with her several times. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” I finally growled. “I was 16 when we made our first deal, okay? What did I know about faeries?”

“Seems like someone told me when I was that age that ignorance is no excuse. You broke your promise to the Leanansidhe. Multiple times. And you’re still alive and human to talk about it.” She shook her head. “Every time I think I've seen the depths of your stupidity you go ahead and find a way to prove me wrong.”

“Yeah well, strap in because you still haven't seen just how stupid I can be. But you will. Because the story of me and Susan is just the two of us making one bad decision after the other.” I sighed and continued on. She laughed at my description of my own costume. She looked amused and intrigued at my description of Thomas and Justine. I told her about the party and the guests. The poison. And Susan, dressed as little red riding hood.

“But she didn't have an invitation!” Molly blurted. “The laws of hospitality don't apply to trespassers!”

I smiled sadly. “What an astute observation. You see, someone has taught you all about dealing with the supernatural world and things like ‘rites of hospitality’ and ‘don't make deals with sidhe’. But no one had taught Susan those things. Because the only guy she knew who could was a complete idiot who thought the less she knew the safer she'd be. So there I am, throwing up the poison I just drank, and who walks by but my dear godmother…” I told her about the deal Susan made and Molly actually gripped her own hair in frustration and pointed out how easily exploited it could be. I smiled and told her exactly what happened.

Once I’d started telling the story I found I couldn't stop. The words poured out of me as I relived it all. It caught up to me just as I told her how I saved our lives by finally saying I love you. I remembered that moment vividly and my voice cracked on the words. I didn't realize my hands were shaking until Molly squeezed them tight in her own. She let go after a moment and stood up. “Are you thirsty? I bet you're thirsty. I'm going to go get us drinks. You want something to drink?” She looked paler than usual and I was certain it was just an excuse to leave the room because my emotions were too much for her, but I didn’t call her out on it.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I told her. She nodded and exited the bedroom. I stood up, stretched, and headed to the bathroom. I gargled with Listerine and washed my face, then scrubbed at my hands a bit until the blood was washed clean. By the time I came back out, Molly was sitting in bed with a cup of tea for herself and a beer stein filled with a dark liquid for me. I eyed it suspiciously. “What is that?”

“You just told me a story about how you willingly ate poison before going to what was clearly a boss fight and you’re worried about what your girlfriend put in your glass?”

“Well, the poison didn’t really work out so well for me. I try not to repeat my mistakes when I can avoid it.” I told her, climbing into bed next to her. I took the glass with trepidation. It bubbled and fizzed. I took a sip and was greeted by sweet syrup and citric acid. My surprise must have registered on my face because Molly started laughing.

“It’s just Coke, oh paranoid one. I know what you like.”

“Oh, you really do.” I emphatically agreed, wagging my eyebrows. I put an arm around her shoulders. “Now that we’re hydrated, do you want me to continue or…”

She glanced over at me. “Do you want to continue? I don’t want you to have to dredge up the past if it’s going to hurt you.”

I barked out a laugh. “My past is nothing but things that hurt me to think about. Even most of my good memories are tainted by the bad things that happened after them.” I took another sip of sweet caffeinated elixir. “I don’t mind talking to you about it, but if it’s too much for you… it’s only going to get worse from here, you know?”

“…I want to know. I can feel how upset you get when you think of her, and it happens a lot, probably more often than you realize. I want to help. But I need to know in order to do that.” She smiled. “Plus, you can’t stop now. The story’s just getting started. I have to know what happens. How did you get out?”

So I told her about how I started a war. How I’d made a choice and I’d chosen Susan. How I’d burned the building down around us with the help of specters. I debated stopping there but Molly wanted to know everything and she’d earned it after everything she’d been through for me. She stayed quiet through most of it. Some of it she already knew – Susan joining the Fellowship, my duel with Ortega. Some of it was new – our understanding that neither one of us could give up our duties even if it meant being apart. Finally, we got to those last few days when we were hunting for Maggie.

“I know that story,” Molly said quietly. “I was there.”

“You were.” I agreed with a small smile “I couldn't have done it without you.”

She made a derisive noise. “Yeah. You couldn't have. How helpful I was. Especially back at Saint Mary’s.”

“That's not fair. If I'm not allowed to talk about it, you shouldn't be either.” I squeezed her hand. “Molls, you've got to stop beating yourself up about it. It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have asked. Even if you'd said no, it wouldn't have changed my mind.”

“I thought we were talking about _your_ haunted past, not mine.” She said, with a sickly smile. “The point is, I know the story from here. You don't have to relive it if you don't want to.”

It was really tempting to take her up on that offer. I could back down now and she'd never know what I'd done. It could stay that way. I buried my head in my hands and groaned when I realized I’d already made my decision. “No, you don't. No one knows the whole story. No one else was there on top of the pyramid thing with us.”

“I think they're called ziggurats.” She supplied.

“Yeah, the pyramid thing.” I insisted. I looked at her, chewing on my bottom lip in hesitation. “It was bad, Molls. I didn't think we had a snowball’s chance at getting out of there alive, let alone with Maggie. It seemed hopeless and then… you ever have a thought that you feel like God should smite you just for thinking?”

“Almost daily, courtesy of my Ladyhood.” She admitted. “But I was raised Catholic so, I mean, I always feel guilty for what I'm thinking, feeling or doing.”

“I was surrounded by vampires more powerful than I'd ever seen. The air smelled like ancient blood and death. I was sure half of my friends, including you, were dead or dying and I'd led you all there. A little girl I’d never met but already was willing to turn the world upside down for was crying on a stone altar as a monster from her worst nightmares bore down on her with a knife, ready to kill her for the crime of being born to the wrong damn family. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. I could only watch as that son of a bitch Martin betrayed us all. And then I had a thought that shouldn’t have ever crossed my mind. I mean, I used to think I was a good man at heart but a good person wouldn’t have ever thought…” I sighed. “We had this big bloodline spell right in front of us, loaded, aimed and ready to fire. All we needed to do was change the target, y’know.”

“So you needed a vampire. The younger the better.” She nodded. “Makes sense. So Susan vamped out, giving you the chance to–”

“No.” I cut her off, too loud and harsh and I didn't care. “No, see, Susan and I couldn't talk. Not out loud. I could communicate to her telepathically but it was just a one-way thing. And I couldn’t think of anything else to do so… she was angry, and I pointed her at Martin. I told her,” My voice wavered and I took a deep breath to steady myself. I closed my eyes. “I told her he couldn’t hurt her, which, of course he could. I pointed out that he had to be the one who told them about Maggie. I knew what it would do to her and I played her like a fiddle. She ripped into him and that was all it took. I watched her lose herself. And she knew what was happening. She could, Christ, she could feel it taking over. And I handed her the knife but,” I was shaking and aware of it but unable to control it. My voice was thick with emotion, tears openly flowing down my face. The sounds, the smells. I could feel the humidity in the air even here in the heart of Winter. “She couldn’t do it. She handed it back and a-asked me to… it was my fault. My plan. I’m the one who told her to… I don’t think Maggie s-s-saw. She was on the ground and she’d had her eyes closed but I didn’t have time. So I used the knife. God help me, I did it.” I made a very undignified sniffle, wiping at my eyes with one hand frantically. “I made her into a monster and then I killed her with my own hands.”

I could feel the blood, hot and thick, pouring over my hands, down the front of me. I could hear the frantic, whimpering cries of the creature that used to be my lover as the life flowed out of her. Acrid smoke and stale, rotten air filled my lungs and I could barely breathe. Piercing screams, so loud I couldn’t think. My vision started going dark around the edges. Suddenly there were arms around me and I was being pulled against soft, warm flesh. I could hear a heartbeat, strong and quick and not my own. “Hey, it’s okay. Come back to me, Harry. I’ve got you. It's all over. You're here. Everyone is okay. Breathe. Relax. It's okay.” An eternity passed and then I nodded slowly against her chest. Molly pressed her lips against my forehead. “I'm so sorry, love. I knew it was going to be terrible but… you’re so strong. That’s too great a burden for anyone to shoulder.”

“It was my choice. I drove her to it.” I sat up, my own watery eyes meeting Molly’s. “I lied and manipulated her into becoming exactly what she fought so hard against. Everyone talks like I’m such a hero, such a good man but I’m not even a man, let alone a good one. How could I do it? How could I even _think_ to do it?”

Cold hands cupped my cheeks, fingers massaging gently at my temples as she guided my head til it was resting in her lap. “Because it was the only logical choice. You needed to save your daughter and you didn’t have any other way to do it.”

“Is logic enough to excuse murder? I mean, it didn’t have to be Susan, did it? I could have goaded Martin into attacking me. Or found any random vampire and at least taken a chunk of them out. Any one of them would have solved our immediate problems.”

“Was Susan stupid?” Molly asked.

“Of course not. She didn’t always make the best choices, as evident by her taste in men, but she was clever and quick. Like Maggie.” I smiled slightly at the thought.

“So, don’t you think that if she wasn’t so distracted and had a moment to think, she would have _also_ figured out that Martin was the one who told them about Maggie?”

“…Maybe.” I finally begrudgingly admitted. Of course she would have. Being a reporter wasn’t that different from being a PI. She had her own finely honed deductive reasoning skills when she wasn’t on the verge of murderous rampage.

“And do you think it mattered to her whether or not Martin could hurt her? I mean, he just betrayed her cause and tried to willingly sacrifice her daughter to kill the love of her life. In her shoes, I’d kill the bastard even if I knew I would die doing it. Wouldn’t you?”

“Damn straight. But it was her choice to make, not mine.” I argued.

She made a noncommittal noise. “She kind of did make it, though. She would have reached the same conclusion either way. She would have snapped either way. She chose to go for her teeth instead of the knife or the sword.” Molly’s fingers paused their massage for a moment and when I looked up at her she looked thoughtful. “You know, I bet if you had the chance to discuss it with her ahead of time, she would have agreed to the whole thing, even without knowing Martin betrayed her. Think about it. She spent the better part of a decade fighting the vamps, watching them destroy lives. Everything you’ve told me about her says she was the sort of person who put the greater good above her own desires. Don’t you think she would have leapt at the chance to exterminate the entire species, all for the low, low price of a single life?”

“Even a single life isn’t a low price.” I snarled.

“Of course not.” She agreed. “Especially not someone you love. But… don’t you think she’d have seen it that way? You obviously knew her better but it sounds right, doesn’t it?”

I sighed. “Yeah. It sounds exactly like something she would do. But it doesn’t change anything. She didn’t get a choice.”

“Life is like that. Sometimes we don’t get a choice.” I tried to ignore the hollow resonance that tinged her voice. “And sometimes we have to make bad choices because that’s all we have. I know it doesn't help, but I feel like you need to hear it. Nothing that happened that night was your fault. You made the right choice because it was the only choice you had. You saved your daughter, and a hundred thousand other sons and daughters for that matter. You don't need to keep holding on to this guilt.”

“It’s not that simple.” I shook my head slightly. “But thank you. For listening and for trying to help.”

“No problem. I uh. Well, I know what it’s like. A little bit at least. Carrying that kind of guilt. Killing someone you love.”

I rolled over onto my stomach and pushed myself up to kiss her soundly. “You didn't–” My mouth wouldn't finish the sentence. “I'm still here. And it was my decision, not yours.”

“It’s not. That. Simple.” She replied in-between kisses.

“Touché.” And then suddenly everything _was_ simple because my hands were on her hips and her arms were around my neck and naked flesh was pressed against naked flesh. My mouth roamed her body, sampling and tasting as I went. She moaned softly in my ear and I bit down hard on her shoulder, eliciting a sharp gasp. Her hands scrabbled frantically at the front of my pants, pulling them down until I was exposed and she could get her hands on my member. She started working me with one hand while I laved her nipples, working her pants off with both of my hands. “Are you. In any shape. To do this?” I asked between gasps and grunts. 

“I'll manage. Need this. Need you.” I understood the feeling and what can I say, I just can't stand to disappoint a woman. We spent quite a while managing together until we were both exhausted but content.

Afterward, we laid together in that impossibly soft and fluffy bed. It still felt uncomfortable to be so relaxed in Arctis Tor, but I just couldn't summon the energy to care. My head was nestled snugly against her bare bosom and her deft fingers massaged my scalp. “Are you still awake?” She whispered.

“Not for long if you keep doing that,” I replied. She jiggled underneath me from her chuckle and my smile widened. I turned my head to look up at her and she met me with a kiss. “Mm. How's your side?”

“That probably wasn’t the best form of rest and recovery,” Molly admitted sheepishly. “But I'll be okay. It didn't start bleeding again or anything.” I traced the edge of her bandage with the tips of my fingers and she shivered. “…How are _you_?” There was hesitation in her sweet voice.

I grunted. “I feel better than I've felt in years.”

“Told you, you just needed to talk about it. Get it off your chest.” It was true. I hated to admit it but she had been right – talking about what had happened had helped. I would always carry the guilt with me for my decisions but admitting it out loud, knowing that she was still here after knowing the worst things I'd ever done, it relieved some of the weight.

“Bah.” I scoffed. “Forget talking. Marathon sex, that's where the real healing is.” She laughed, perfectly aware that I was bluffing. 

“Well, _I'm_ happy we talked. I learned a lot about you.”

_I'm sure you did,_ I thought glumly. But her tone was cheerful so I replied in kind. “Oh did you? And what did you learn?”

“I learned that you and dad had to be bailed out of jail. That'll make an excellent conversation topic for next Sunday.” She grinned and I groaned.

“Your mom almost killed me for that. I'd really rather you didn't bring it up around her in case she has second thoughts.”

“I also learned that you proposed to Susan.” She added, picking up her mug of what must have been very cold tea by that point.

She had looked surprised when I said it but hadn't commented. I nodded. “Yeah. That I did.”

“Like, marriage? You were going to marry her?” She pressed, perplexed.

I cocked an eyebrow. “That _is_ what people traditionally mean when they propose and put a ring on someone’s finger.”

“But… you?” Her eyes bulged a bit. “That’s big. For you to put yourself out there after everything you’ve gone through…”

“I was younger then. Hadn’t been through as much.”

“Still, after your childhood and everything… I just never saw you as a marriage kind of guy.”

I blinked. “Never? Not even… never?”

“Not really. That’s a pretty serious contract to make with someone, especially for a wizard and a vanilla mortal.” She didn't bother hiding the pain in her expression. “Till death do us part loses some of the romance when one of you has only decades left and the other has centuries. Or at least that's how I've always thought about it.”

This was a conversation best left for another night, when we weren't still recovering from me recounting the series of personal failures that led to me killing the mother of my child or from having killed a child in cold blood in a similar fashion. So, of course, I said, “Seems like the obvious solution would be to marry someone with similar longevity, then. You never imagined me getting married to someone like that?”

She buried her face in her mug, taking a long sip that didn't quite cover the blush spreading across her cheeks. “Maybe. A few times. When I was younger.”

I took the hand that wasn’t holding her mug and twined my fingers with hers. “And what about now that you’re older?”

“Now that I’m older I’ve decided premarital sex is the least of my sins and the entire wedding process isn’t necessary for me to have what I want.” She squeezed my hand then stilled. “Wait, you weren’t like, asking, right?”

_Not yet._ “And what if I was?” She remained still, like a deer in the headlights. After a beat, I took pity on her and laughed. “Give me some credit. If I propose, I’ll at least have a ring for you. I’d like to think you’d know if I was proposing to you.”

Molly visibly relaxed. “Heh heh. That was, phew, you had me going there for a minute.” She shook her head, grinning. “I don't know what I would have done if you'd seriously asked. I… Harry?” She turned to look at me, frowning.

I tried to suck up the disappointment I was feeling and schooled my face into something I hoped looked normal. “Mm?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, trying to meet my eyes. I looked away. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.” She sounded confused more than anything.

“Feels kind of invasive. You always knowing how I feel.” I grumbled. 

“Feels pretty invasive to me to always feel other people's emotions. But I have very little control over that.” Her tone was chiding and I almost told her she sounded just like her mother before I thought better of it. “Did you expect me to gush and squeal and tell you that I’d scream yes from the rooftops if you asked?”

“No, I just didn't realize you were so opposed to marriage. I guess I always thought of you as someone who would want to be married and settled down one day. Maybe not now but,” I shrugged “I’m just surprised you don't want that, with your upbringing and all.”

“I did. I… I _do_ want that. But what I want doesn't matter. Harry, we couldn’t get married. Not ever. You know that, right?” Molly asked it like she was afraid of the answer and my blood ran cold.

“Let's pretend I didn't,” I said carefully. “Why the hell not?”

“Well, for one I'm the Winter _Lady_. As in Ms. Not Mrs. I don't even know what it would do to me to make a marriage contract. It might destroy my power or something. If the mantle would even let me. But more importantly, you've already sworn yourself to the Queen.”

“We can do research on that first part. But being the Knight? That should only help. I'm sworn to serve the Queens, right? So if I'm married to you–”

“You made a contract with,” she mouthed ‘Mab’ but didn't say it aloud. “You're sworn to her. Til death do you part and apparently even after. I mean you… you even consummated it, right? There were witnesses.”

“Are you saying I'm married to the Queen of the Unseelie Court?” My mouth had gone dry and it felt like a black hole had opened somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach and threatened to swallow my organs and turn me inside out.

“Something close to it, at least, yeah,” Molly admitted in a small, frightened voice like she was waiting for me to explode. 

“But I didn't say ‘I do’. There weren't any rings or anything. I'm not even sure I was bodily present.” I protested weakly.

“You should know by now that none of that matters. That's all just mortal trappings and religious symbolism. What really matters is–”

“The kiss.” I finished for her. “Stars and stones.” I stared at nothing for a moment. “Does that make me Sarissa’s stepdad? Because I'm not comfortable with how much of a creep that would make me.”

Despite everything, that got Molly to laugh. “You're not her husband. I think Kringle might take offense at the insinuation. But you _are_ sworn to her, body and soul. Sort of all the spiritual connotations without the social obligation.”

“But as the Knight I'm bound to you and Mother Winter in the same way, right?” I asked, trying to put pieces together.

“Yes, though practically speaking Mother Winter would never call on you except in an emergency and I am the least in power so I defer to the Queen and Mother.” Molly shrugged one slender shoulder, bouncing an angry red imprint of my teeth from our earlier activities. “Basically, she's called dibs.”

“But if we got married, it's not like it would nullify my contract with her in any way. I’m already sworn to serve you body and soul as collective-your Knight. If we got married it would just be doubling-down on that promise.”

“I doubt she would see it that way. Even if we could do it, it would hurt her image and I think it might hurt her personally. She’s… odd.” She hugged one arm around herself. “And anyway, most guys would be happy to have a girl with no interest in marriage. Why is this such a big deal to you?”

B _ecause I have deep-seated issues of abandonment and betrayal and while I logically know that a marriage is no guarantee that you won't leave and/or try to kill me, it's the principle of the thing. Plus, you’re sidhe now and sidhe always honor their commitments,_ I thought. What I said was, “It's not. I just figured that at some point in between doodling little hearts with HD plus sign MC numeral 4 ever all over your notebooks you'd have imagined us getting married.”

“Jerk.” She said fondly with a smile. “Fine. I pictured a big white wedding with a thousand people and the whole long, drawn-out, traditional ceremony with Latin Mass and you in a tux and you'd shed a few manly tears while my dad walked me down the aisle. And we'd say I do and they'd tell you that you could kiss the bride and you'd sweep me off my feet in the sort of kiss that only happens in movies and then we'd race out of the church and be late to our own reception because you just couldn't wait until the wedding night to tear me out of my dress and ravish my eager body. Is that what you were looking for?”

Tomatoes wish they were as red as Molly’s face at that moment. I grinned from ear to ear. “That's better than I ever expected.” I leaned back against the bed. “We can't do a Latin Mass, Molls. I wouldn't know what's going on.”

She followed me back and we laid side by side with our hands entwined between us. “Well, I hadn't heard you butcher Latin yet when I started imagining it. But maybe you took lessons during our engagement.”

“Any bridesmaids?”

“Of course. That's the whole point of having sisters. So they can be your bridesmaids and you can put them in the most hideous gowns you can find. I'm thinking hot pink with big puffy sleeves.”

“You might be right. You _are_ a monster.” We both laughed and I couldn't help but picture it in my head. “What about groomsmen?”

“My brothers. Billy. And of course, Thomas would be your best man.” I glanced over at her.

“This is a recent enough fantasy that you knew that Thomas was my brother. So that puts you at what, 19?”

“You are the jerkiest of jerks, Harry.” She told me fondly. “It's evolved some over time.”

“What's your dress look like?” I asked with a smile. 

She sighed. “Sleeveless trumpet – that means it hugs my boobs and hips then flares out at the bottom – ivory with silver trim. A train so long it just barely fits through the doors by the time I reach the altar.”

“Dress like that would show off your tattoos. Charity would be pissed.” I noted.

“I know. That's why I chose it. But I bet you'd like it.”

“Of course. I'd scarcely be able to wait until we left the church to rip it off and ravish your eager body.” I teased. “What about our rings, what do they look like?”

“I don't know. I'm always too busy looking at your face to pay attention.” She reached up to touch said face in emphasis. “I got the look all wrong though. When you smile at me like this, it’s so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

“I love you, Molls,” I said, because it was true and because I could practically hear the church bells ringing in my head and from her expression I thought she could too.

“I know.” She smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “Don't you Solo me. You're the princess. I’m the smartass with the big fuzzy companion who can't speak English but is still smarter than me. Got that?” She laughed but said nothing in return.

We went home the next day after Molly had a final check-in with the medics. Apparently, she was likely to see her power reduced while she recovered, and she was to avoid any other encounters with ‘the Bane’ since (I learned, with perhaps a bit too much interest for someone in a relationship with one of the fae) it had a cumulative poisonous effect and could make her ill. Our life fell back into its normal routine. I dragged myself out of bed to go running with Thomas at least twice a week. I worked a few lost items cases that came in, went to game night with the Alphas. I played phone tag with Murph but it sounded like there wasn’t much going on that required my help. When I’d first gotten back to the world of the living, that had bothered me. It felt like my city didn’t really need me anymore. Now I just enjoyed having time to do the things I liked – some reading, research, and spell-crafting, spending time with Molly and Maggie, just living as close to a normal life as was possible for me.

Molly’s workload was less intense during her recovery, which surprised me. But she explained that it was almost the Winter solstice, the height of Winter’s power, and everything tended to move smoother the closer we got. Pretty much all of faerie respected one thing above all else – power. And right now we had it in spades. It wasn’t hard to tell looking outside at the mounds of snow piling up. It was a harsh December, even by normal Chicago standards, and shoveling the sidewalks became my newest hobby. I would do our walkway and sidewalk of course, and while I was at it I kept on until I'd finished the rest of the block. Then I'd head over to the other side of the street to take care of the Carpenters’ walkway and driveway.

With his leg, Michael couldn't really shovel anymore. Or at least he shouldn't and Charity wasn’t willing to let him risk his health for the sake of his pride. The two of them protested the first few storms – Charity had always managed herself and recruited the older children to help – but I patiently and politely ignored them and went about my business. I learned to get out there early in the morning before the house was awake and take care of it to avoid the grumbles.

It was on just such a morning, less than a week before Christmas, when I suddenly felt the steady pressure of eyes on my back. It was maybe 6:00, still pitch black except for the pools of light from the street lamps, and the entire world had that soft hush to it that sometimes happens when it snows. I finished the patch of sidewalk I was working on before straightening to see who or what was watching me.

Charity Carpenter stood on the porch in a puffy winter coat with a fur-lined hood, her breath fogging in the air, mixing with the steam coming off of the thermos clutched in her hands. I nodded at her then turned around and resumed my work. I was almost done, for the time being at least. At this rate, I’d have to keep at it throughout the day to make it manageable at all.

Charity’s boots (the thick rubber kind that fishermen wore, pulled up over top of work boots) crunched over the snow as she walked up behind me. “Harry, what are you doing?” She asked quietly, as though I were one of her children whom she had just decided was absolutely hopeless.

“Just finishing up the sidewalk. Figure, it’s not slick yet and with the holiday coming up, the kids will still have school. I don’t want anyone to slip.”

“I see.” She said, amusement evident in her voice. “And it has nothing to do with you trying to prove that you are a good man, and a worthy suitor for my daughter?”

“It doesn’t,” I answered truthfully. “I think we both know that Molly deserves better than the likes of me. No amount of shoveling is going to change that.”

“We both know that, do we?” Laugh lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes and her smile. “It hardly matters what she deserves, does it? It was always going to be you or no one. She is a singularly determined child.”

“I wonder who she got that from,” I replied with a wry smile.

“Must be from her father's side.” Charity suggested mildly. “Or maybe she learned it from a teacher of some sort?”

“Nah, definitely her father.”

“Of course.” She agreed. “If it's not about Molly, then why _have_ you been out here every morning shoveling my walkway?”

I shrugged. “I've got super strength. I barely feel the cold. Just makes sense for me to do it so no one else has to.” I hesitated then added. “I know you would never ask, but with Daniel away at school and Michael’s leg… I'm not too familiar with the whole family thing and how it works when you're all functional human beings, but with Thomas and I… part of being family is doing whatever we can to help each other, even when we're too proud to ask.”

“I think there was almost a sweet sentiment hidden in that vague insult, Dresden.” Charity gave me a look that clearly said ‘what am I going to do with you?’. She shivered and handed me the thermos. “Here. For you.”

The smell of cocoa assaulted me as soon as I unscrewed the lid and when I took a sip I swear a chorus of angels sang. Honestly, given the house it came from, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing to find that Charity’s hot chocolate was divine in nature. It was the real stuff – homemade, not from some mix – and it managed to warm me from head to toe like my own personal sunbeam. I made a hum of appreciation, wanting to show gratitude but unwilling to stop consuming the hot cocoa long enough to talk. Charity caught my eye for just a second before looking away and clearing her throat. “I always make cocoa for my children when they help with the snow.”

I smiled. “And you've decided to extend the tradition to a stubborn old fool like me?”

She made a derisive snort. “I do it for _all_ of my children, Harry. That includes the stubborn, foolish stray wizard my husband and daughter insisted on adopting.”

Wouldn't you know, the steam from that thermos must have hit my eyes and caused condensation because I found myself blinking away a few tears. “Thank you, Charity.” I hugged her, and she tensed for a long moment before relaxing and gently squeezing me back.

“It's just cocoa.” She murmured. “A small thank you for working so hard to make sure our family is taken care of.” Damn the steam from that thermos, hitting my eyes even when it wasn't right in front of me. When I released her Charity was kind enough to pretend not to notice. She shivered again. “It’s too cold out here for these old bones and I have to get breakfast started. If you're determined to keep at this without any help, at least be careful, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I inclined my head and set the thermos down, picking my shovel back up.

“’Ma’am’” She muttered as she walked back to the porch. “We’re making Christmas cookies after school today if you two want to come help.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” I told her and finished clearing the path.


	3. Chapter 3

“I'm switching teams,” I told Molly, kicking the snow off my boots as I came in the door. “Winter has far too much power. I'm throwing in with Titania.”

“I'm afraid I couldn't in good conscience allow you to attempt such a thing.” Said an all-too-familiar voice, throaty and sensual. “If you didn't perish in the attempt, it would just be a matter of which Queen would smite you first – Mab for your betrayal, Titania for slaying her daughter, or Molly for depriving her of your… companionship.”

I stalked into the living room and, despite knowing who I’d find, was still surprised at the sight of the Leanansidhe sitting on our sofa. “Godmother.” I nodded slightly in greeting. “To what do I owe the unexpected, uh, thrill of your presence?”

Her tinkling laugh would have been delightful if I hadn’t heard it so many times as she was threatening my life, freedom and/or sanity. “Charming as always. But I'm not here for you.”

I clenched my fists. “If you've done anything to harm her I swear I'll–”

“Relax, Harry.” Molly came out of the kitchen carrying a tray laden with all of the essential items to host a high tea with the Queen of England herself. “Auntie just stopped by for a visit.”

I hurried to take the tray from her, which netted me a half-amused, half-irritated eye roll, and set it on the coffee table in front of Lea. “It's deeply unsettling that you call her that.”

“But it's even more appropriate now,” Lea purred. “Are we not something akin to family?” Her cats' eyes sparkled with amusement. 

“You don't know the first thing about family, Godmother.” I started to sit in my usual chair by the fire but decided against it, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from the creature invading my living room. “Molly already has a family and you have no part in it.”

“La, nor would I want one, child. Look at the lengths you humans will go for family. How has it served any of you?” She gestured around the room, encompassing Molly and I both.

“That's enough, Leanansidhe.” Molly’s voice was clear and precise. This was not a request, it was a command. Lea paused for just a moment before nodding in acquiescence. “Harry, the same goes for you. If you can't be kind, be quiet. Lea is a guest in our home.” Our eyes locked for a moment and I didn’t bother hiding my defiance. Like hell was she going to pull rank against me in our private life. But she stood her ground, jaw set.

“I see. So it’s like that?” I asked.

“How else would it be?” She replied blandly, pouring tea for the three of us. Not one for tea, I didn’t take my mug. Molly drinking was enough to satisfy our end of the rites of hospitality, to be safe. “Honestly, I think you forget who we are half the time.”

“Perhaps senility is setting in, dear. You did wait until he was rather old for a mortal before finally making your claim.” Lea observed.

“Vanilla mortals don't usually go senile at 40, Godmother, and as a wizard, I'm barely more than a pup, which you know. Furthermore, no one has laid claim to me.” I was surprised by the popping sound my own knuckles made and looked down at tightly clenched fists. 

“Barely more than a pup, indeed.” She agreed with a toothy grin. “Relax child, your lover is just trying to remind us that even with her injury she still holds dominion over us both. Quite unnecessary, Lady Molly, I assure you. I wouldn't dream of disrespecting your hospitality or authority.”

“Of course not.” Molly’s voice dripped sarcasm. She let Lea choose her cup and then took one for herself, settling back into her usual chair. “So, did you have business to discuss?”

“Nothing so dreary. It's been some time since you've come to visit. I thought I'd call on you for a change.” She looked around. “This is quite a cozy home you've built for yourself. Much warmer than I would have expected. But I suppose you've been subverting my expectations of late, haven't you?”

“Perhaps you just don't understand people as well as you think you do,” Molly replied. The conversation sounded pleasant and both women were, to all appearances, relaxed and comfortable in each other’s company. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something – and something important at that.

“I _have_ always had a harder time predicting the actions of mortal women. Men are so easy. Their motivations are always simple at their base components. Females can be more… complex.” She tapped one finger thoughtfully against her lips. “Well, some of them anyway. Some of you have such a one-track mind it’s distressing.”

“I assure you, women are just as simply motivated as men when you get right down to it. Perhaps different motivations, but just as simple. I’ve found that to be true of all beings, mortal or not, Auntie.” Molly took a sip of tea, smiling. “Wouldn’t you agree, Harry?”

“Don’t ask me. I have no idea what we’re talking about. I honestly can’t even tell if you’re threatening or praising each other right now.”

“To think the two are mutually exclusive,” Lea scoffed. “Death threats are the highest form of flattery.”

“I’m pretty sure the expression is ‘imitation’, Godmother.”

“La. Who wants to be imitated?” I thought about asking who wanted to receive death threats but decided that would only encourage her. She took a bite of one of the cookies on the tray (which I’d been harangued into baking to allegedly help Molly’s wound heal faster since ‘anything that good must have curative properties’) and hummed in surprise, nodding toward Molly. “I thought you were just a besotted lover but these _are_ quite good.”

“Would I lie to you?” Molly replied, grabbing one for herself. Lea gave a short laugh but said nothing.

“It’s a family recipe. I can’t take credit.” I mumbled. It had been in an old cookbook on a shelf in Ebenezer’s house, full of tattered pages and handwritten notes. I never asked about it but I assumed it was his wife’s, my grandmother’s. Molly started coughing heavily, an unfortunately frequent side effect of her wound that she assured me was getting better, even if it didn't seem like it.

“I’m fine.” She wheezed to my unasked question as soon as the cough subsided. She gulped down tea and cleared her throat. “So Auntie, what’s new with you since last we met?”

It was the weirdest damn thing. I spent the better part of my morning eating finger food and listening to Molly and Lea have an entire conversation about what I’d swear were the most mundane things – traveling that Lea had done, a day last week when Molly had run into her mom at the grocery store and the ensuing conversation, a bit of gossip that Lea had heard about someone named Tameera that Molly evidently knew. It didn’t sound that far off from what I’d expect of a conversation between two old friends catching up over tea. I would almost have believed it, but their reactions were sometimes just a little off – a frown of confusion when there should have been sadness, a laugh when nothing amusing had been said, angry eyes in an otherwise joyful face, a pause that was just a beat or two too long for a casual conversation. But I couldn’t figure out the subtext for the life of me.

“….was riding through Paris with an old friend when I ran into the most remarkable young woman. She bore a striking resemblance to a young lady that I recently had lunch with in Perth, now that I think about it. Well, you know how I am with beautiful creatures.” Lea’s smile had too many teeth.

Molly’s expression didn’t change but she leaned ever so slightly forward. “Of course, you like to collect them. And a matching set would be quite the prize.”

“Don’t encourage her.” I sighed. “She doesn’t need more hounds.”

“Ah, but this one was a rare bitch indeed, sweet boy,” Lea told me with sparkling eyes. “To my grave disappointment, I was unable to capture her myself. But my friend caught her eye.”

“What a lucky friend,” Molly replied, shifting to watch the fire dancing in the hearth. “The eye of a remarkable woman is a fine thing to catch.”

“It’s better than that. My friend must have caught her interest as well for they’ve arranged to meet again, soon.”

Molly’s breath caught for just a second. “A very lucky friend then. I wish her the best. May it be a successful meeting all around.”

“Okay, you know what?’ I stood up. “That’s enough. What the hell are you talking about?”

“A chance encounter in Paris, child. What else?” Lea replied.

“That’s exactly my point. What else?” I looked from my godmother’s shit-eating grin to Molly’s innocent wide eyes. “So you’re both going to pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about?” They were both still as statues, expressions unchanged. “Really Molly? I expect this from her, but now you’re going to keep secrets from me too?”

Molly’s eyes grew hard but her smile remained. “We’ve carried on the entire conversation with you sitting right here, Harry. It’s hardly my fault if you can’t keep up.”

“Urrgh. Fine. I've had enough of this. You two keep having your secret fairy tea party. I'm going down to the lab before I get a migraine trying to figure this out.” On my way out, I leaned down to plant a solid, lingering kiss on Molly’s lips. How’s that for being claimed? “I’m going across the street for dinner, by the way. Your mom invited us to–”

“Christmas cookies?” She guessed.

“Yeah. With the kids.” I grinned. “I can’t wait.”

“You’re adorable.” She kissed me again.

“Ah yes, I suppose this will be your first holiday season with your progeny, won’t it, Dresden?” Lea asked. I didn’t like her knowing smile, but I couldn’t find the trap in her words.

“It is. I’m honestly really excited to get to spend Christmas with Ma–” Molly was hit with another wracking cough, and I hovered uselessly while she doubled over, holding her side tight. Wordlessly, she handed me her empty cup and I hastened to the kitchen to fill it for her.

I was heading back down the hall when I heard her voice, thin and reedy, declare, “– anything to him. Understood?”

“Of course, my Lady,” Lea replied promptly. I lingered just out of sight. “It's just that he would be of great use in–”

“Irrelevant.” Molly snapped, the cold resonance of the Winter Lady somewhat diminished by the way her strained voice squeaked. “He is mine to protect now and I will do it as I see fit. This matter is not up for debate.” She cleared her throat and in a slightly louder voice added, “You know my teacher once told me that eavesdropping was a nasty habit.”

“I’m a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ kinda guy. What can I say?” I drawled, continuing into the living room and handing her the cup of water. “For instance, I would advise against keeping secrets because you think you’re protecting someone. I’ve tried it, extensively, and it doesn’t work out.”

“Your advice is duly noted.” She replied, draining her mug and setting it down with the other empty ones on the tray. I waited patiently, staring her down, but apparently that was all I was getting. “Weren’t you going to go tinker in the lab?”

When I was a younger man, I would have put my foot down and made my stand right then and there, demanding that she tell me the truth, yelling and shouting and intimidating. How dare she? She was mine, my apprentice, my woman, mine to protect, not the other way around. But if I did that, especially right now when she was in full Lady mode with one of her subjects watching, she would have to make an example of me. I would respond, of course. We both had our roles to play. And it would only end with one or both of us injured. Oh, and I also still wouldn’t find out what she was hiding. Apparently it’s true, with age comes wisdom. “Yes, I am. I’d like it if you could join me, once you’re done with your tea party.”

I felt more than I saw her relax. “I’ll be down shortly.” She confirmed. Our eyes met, and I could see her apology, her ‘thank you’, written under all of the regal bearing.

I nodded once, curt. “Thank you, my Lady.” I turned to the Leanansidhe, nodding again. “Godmother.” I started to leave when a thought occurred to me and I stood in my tracks. Molly had told me if I asked the right questions to the right _being_ , there was no knowing what _she_ might tell me. The two spent a lot of time together, apparently. And they were hiding at least one secret from me. “Lea’s the right being.”

“Right for what, dear?” Lea asked, frowning, but I ignored her because Molly wore a self-satisfied smile and I knew I was right.

“Our Lea is right for many things, Sir Knight.” She confirmed, all business. “But today she is my guest.” Just the slightest emphasis on the word ‘my’. “You might hurt my feelings if you two start to reminisce with me sitting right here.”

Lea looked back and forth between the two of us, her smile suddenly a bit wooden. “And what would we reminisce about, I wonder?”

“Margaret LeFay,” I told her. “And why my mother keeps cropping up in relation to a string of gruesome murders that I'm supposed to know nothing about.”

The room was silent for the span of a few heartbeats and it felt tense, claustrophobic. Then a rippling laugh bubbled out of Lea’s throat, like water rushing over rocks in a mountain stream. “I have always loved your ability to cut straight to the heart of things, child. How you have ended up in the lap of a fae creature other than myself and yet survived is beyond me.” She smoothed her skirts unnecessarily. “Murder is such a gruesome topic, I’d hardly care to speak of it. But reminiscing about an old friend?” She smirked. “Why yes, that could be arranged. You know how to find me when you’re available.”

I wanted to tell her that I was available right then and there, but Molly cut me off. “As I said, that's a conversation best left for another time. It would be a shame to interrupt our chat today. It's been so pleasant so far.” She glanced at me with a plastic smile. “I'll meet you downstairs anon. You are dismissed.”

I stalked away, muttering darkly about being dismissed and multi-leveled conversations and overall how much I hated goddamn faeries and their bullshit. Bonnie tried to help or at least intervene, but my sour mood drove her back into her vessel. I had planned to make some much-needed updates to Little Chicago, which only functioned as long as I maintained it and maintained it well, but I had learned the hard way that concentration was essential for that kind of work and I simply didn't have it right then. So I did what I always did to kill time in the lab: potions. I had some new ideas that I was toying around with and it seemed like a good time to try making them. 

An indeterminate amount of time later, I was rushing up the stairs with Bonnie’s skull wrapped in my shirt and a cloud of noxious green smoke billowing behind me. The door opened just as I reached for the handle and I almost bowled Molly over in my haste to take a breath of non-poisonous air. She wasted no time dragging me through and slamming the door behind me. I coughed and sputtered, leaning against the basement wall for a moment. “Harry?” Molly asked slowly. “What have you done to my lab?”

“’Ss fine.” I wheezed. “I put the fire out.”

She looked like she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or yell at me. “Why was my lab on fire?”

“I may have miscalculated how much energy I was throwing into my potion. Or there was a chemical reaction between ingredients? Bonnie?”

“Definitely a chemical reaction, dad. I told you not to use–”

“Yeah, okay. Okay. You were right.” My chest was still tight but I could breathe normally. “Sorry, kid.”

Molly’s face was now solidly amused. “I’ll open the vents so that we can maybe use the lab again in what, another decade or two?” She coughed delicately and waved at the air in front of her, trying to disperse the wisps of smoke that had followed me out. She muttered something and made a lifting gesture.

“Thanks, Molls.” I slumped down to our basement floor, back against the wall. She settled down cross-legged in front of me, taking my hands in hers. 

“What were you trying to make?”

“Oh uh. Sort of like a neutralizing potion?” I told her, flustered. She waited patiently for me to elaborate and I cleared my throat. “For my mantle.”

“Ah.” Was all she said, understanding. Even with her injury, Molly was no frail, delicate thing. She was still a force to be reckoned with in a fight, a force of pure overwhelming energy when necessary, and resilient. But not quite as resilient as we were both used to. We had, uh, been intimate on a number of occasions since our mission together but we'd quickly found that she was much more breakable right now than I was accustomed to. I did my best to keep my mantle under wraps, limit my strength so I wouldn't hurt her, but that sort of thing required no small amount of effort and concentration. I spent half the time checking to make sure I wasn’t hurting her, and then she would get frustrated and that just made it harder to keep control and… it just wasn’t a good experience. So we'd agreed to limit the types of carnal activities we participated in until she was recovered.

But we were not thrilled about it, and even if neither of us would admit it out loud, we'd both been a bit more ‘wound up’ than usual as a result. I thought I'd found a solution but...

“But, as you can smell, it was a bust.”

She laughed lightly. “I'd say so.” One hand came up to stroke lovingly along my jawline. “It's okay. I'll be better soon. I don't want you taking a potion that’ll weaken you just so that you don't accidentally hurt me anyway. What if trouble came along before it wore off?”

“I was a match for trouble before I became the Winter Knight. I think I could manage.” I met her eyes. “Plus, I'm yours to protect now, right?”

She looked away. “Yes.”

“Which is why you’re hiding things from me.”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Even though you know it’s a bad idea. Even though I taught you better than that.”

She closed her eyes tightly. “I can’t see you get hurt again, Harry. I won’t. I let it happen. I _helped_ it happen. Not this time. I will not lose you again. Not for Winter. Not for Lea. Not even for you.”

“Wait, just so we’re clear, you think the best way to keep me safe is by keeping secrets about what you think will be an attempt on my life?” I tried to keep the anger out of my tone. It didn’t work, but I should get points for trying. “Brilliant. Yeah, that’s a great idea.”

“No, of course not.” Molly snapped. “You’re as safe right now as you ever are. If I knew someone was gunning for you I’d tell you. But there are things in motion and if you knew about them…” She sighed. “You’re better off not knowing, for now.”

“God, karma is a bitch and a half,” I muttered. “I can deal with the secrets you have to keep for the Queen. But you are willfully lying to me, keeping me in the dark, Molly. That is not okay. I’ve seen too many people get hurt because–”

“You know what, I’M NOT YOU, HARRY!” She shouted, startling me. Molly hardly ever raised her voice when she wasn’t issuing a royal command of some kind. It had been a long time since I’d heard her yell in her normal voice. She drew a shuddering breath and continued in a calmer tone. “I need you to trust me. When I was younger, before you told me something dangerous for me to know, you would always ask if I wanted to know it. I trusted that if you were asking that, it wasn’t just you trying to scare me or be overly paranoid, it was a genuine concern. I need you to trust that this is something too dangerous for you to know. I’m not asking, because I know you’ll say yes anyway, but please trust me on this. Your answer should be no.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to know. But her eyes were pleading, scared even, and her face was determined. If I pushed, I could probably convince her to tell me. But trust was a two-way street. I sighed. “I don’t like it.”

“I know.” She agreed. “Me neither.”

“Is there a chance you’ll come to harm as a result of keeping this secret from me?”

She considered it. “I would say there’s always a chance of anything happening. But I think, honestly, the chances are greater that I’ll come to harm if I told you now rather than keeping it secret.”

I grunted. “I still don’t like it.”

“I know.” She repeated, squeezing one hand tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate this.” I thumped my head back against the wall. “This isn’t the life I wanted for you, Molly. How the hell did we get here?”

She laughed softly. “Same way we've wound up anywhere in life – love, and the crazy things we’ll do for it.” Taking my head in her hands, she pulled me forward, planting a kiss between my brows and another on my lips. “And I'll do a million crazier things too if it means I get you.”

I started chuckling too, despite it all. “Wanting me is the craziest thing you’ve done yet. But don’t worry, you already have me. Always will.”

We headed over to the Carpenters’ in the late afternoon. I tried to persuade Molly to wait until I’d shoveled the walks again, but of course, she insisted on heading over with me. When I pressed the issue she opted to walk over in high-heels and a summer dress, literally dancing over the snow to prove her point. Show off. I got a stern lecture from Charity for not making her wear a coat, which I only escaped when I ducked outside with my shovel. I made short work of the sidewalks and walkways and put out extra salt at the bus stop. When I finished, I came back in to find Molly happily chatting away in a kitchen that smelled positively heavenly already.

“Weren’t we going to make cookies with the kids?” I asked, taking off my boots to let them dry by the door.

“Of course.” Molly chirped. Maybe it was just getting out of the house or human contact, but she was looking healthier than I’d seen her in days, even under the glamour. “But mom always makes enough Christmas cookies to feed an entire army, and not all of them are fun to make or decorate. Some of them just taste good. That’s what we’ve got baking now.”

“Plus, if you expect _some_ _people_ to decorate the cookies instead of eating half of the dough, you have to give them fresh baked cookies to chew on instead.” Charity told me, glancing meaningfully at her daughter. “I learned that the hard way.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Molly declared in mock outrage, but her lips tasted suspiciously sweet when I leaned down to kiss her.

Charity glanced away, obviously uncomfortable with our display of affection and I cleared my throat. “Is there anything I can help with?” Ten minutes later I was wearing an apron, covered in flour and powdered sugar, rolling out my third batch of sugar cookie dough and wondering how the hell the entire Carpenter family didn’t have type six diabetes if they made this many Christmas cookies every year. Michael came in from his workshop, took one look at me, and started heartily laughing.

“Harry. I see domestic life is suiting you.” He rumbled, kissing his wife on her upturned cheek on his way to embrace Molly and me.

I shrugged. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I think the way to a woman’s must be through her sweet tooth.”

“Is that so?” Michael’s eyes twinkled with his smile.

“Not medically speaking, no,” Molly added helpfully around what was definitely not a mouthful of cookie dough.

I opened my mouth to tease that I’d have to stop baking at home if my plan wasn’t working when the front door slammed open. “Papa, something’s wrong with Maggie.” Hank declared as he came through the door, one arm around my daughter. My heart stopped and I was in the living room in less than a second. Maggie was hunched over Mouse, her fingers buried in his fur, and she was sobbing loudly.

“Maggie.” I breathed, scooping her up to inspect her for injuries. I couldn’t see any blood, bruising or other signs of physical damage. “It’s okay sweetheart, daddy’s here, what’s wrong, what happened?”

“She was like this when she got on the bus.” My namesake said. “I asked her what happened but she just kept crying and holding on to Mouse. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Everyone come inside and close the door.” Charity declared with supreme authority. “Hats and coats on the rack, shoes in the tray, anyone with wet clothes march straight upstairs and change.” Harry and Hope both did as they were told while I carried Maggie to the couch. Mouse looked between us worriedly but gave no other indication of what was wrong.

“Hey, Maggie. Did something happen at school today?” I asked, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her so we were on eye-level. She hugged her knees and wouldn’t look at me. “Did someone hurt you?” It came out as more of a growl than I intended but she just shook her head. “Did you hurt yourself?” She shook her head again. “Then what’s wrong?”

She sniffled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. “The other kids made fun of me.”

“No way, you’re awesome.” Molly chimed in, standing just behind me. “What could they have possibly teased you about?”

Maggie glanced at her and looked away. “They said I was dumb because I told them I couldn’t wait to see what Santa brought me. They said… they said that Santa was just a lie that grown-ups tell kids to make them behave.” Hesitantly she brought her wide dark eyes up to meet mine. “Is that true? Is Santa just made up?”

“Yes, he is Maggie,” Michael told her, with the practiced ease of someone who has had this conversation a time or ten. “But it’s important to know that–”

“Bullshit.” I declared. “Santa is definitely real. I’ve met him.”

“You have?” Asked everyone in the room except for my girlfriend.

I barely registered the hope and excitement on my daughter’s face before I added, “Yes. And you stay the hell away from him. He is a very scary man. If you ever see old Kringle, run, you hear me? You run and hide in the panic room, okay?” All of that hope and excitement just crumpled away and her crying resumed at full force. Mouse leaned against her. “Ah. Oops.”

“Move aside, Mr. Intense,” Molly said, nudging me over. “I got this.”

I stood back, feeling really hopeless and equally foolish. Everything I’d said had been truthful and good information for my daughter to know. Kringle had almost killed me once during an encounter with the Wild Hunt. I knew first hand how dangerous he was. He had also been a stalwart ally and he was apparently the Winter King, whatever that meant, so it’s not like I was watching for him over my shoulder, but I still didn’t want to encounter him more often than necessary.

“Harry?” Michael said softly and nodded toward the kitchen. I didn't want to leave Maggie when she was so upset, but I didn't want to open my big mouth again and make things worse either, so I followed him. “Harry, I know this is all new for you, but you have to be more careful around her.”

“Yeah, I know,” I rubbed at the back of my neck. “I just get so worried. It's my job to keep her safe and there's so much more to keep her safe from with me as her dad.”

“The world is not a safe place for anyone. You’re just better informed about exactly how dangerous it can be.” He put one hand on my shoulder. “But that's _your_ burden to shoulder, Harry. Maggie is 11 years old. She's not an adult.”

Normally that calm, placid voice, full of confidence and reassurance, made me relax. His advice was solid. His friendship was true. But something about this conversation was rubbing me the wrong way and I shifted my weight just a bit away from his touch. “I know she's not an adult, Michael.”

“Then you should start acting like it. She's not old enough to handle the truths that you know. Don't you think she has enough nightmares without you giving her more?” He said it gently, no anger or malice, just a reasonable appeal for me to change the way I raised my daughter. 

“I think those nightmares are exactly why she deserves to know the truth of things,” I told Michael, not nearly so gentle. “You might be able to shelter your kids, but I can't. She's already seen the cruelty and pain out there. She needs to be ready.”

“She needs a childhood.” He replied, firmly. “She needs a father. She's not your apprentice, she's your daughter.”

“I know that. I'm trying to raise _my_ daughter so she doesn't have to become an apprentice at the point of a Warden’s sword.” I snapped, and I saw anger stir to life behind his eyes. Good. I was ready to argue. “See, I try to learn from my mistakes…and the mistakes of others. I want _my_ daughter to be ready when her power comes in. I want _my_ daughter to know what's out there, know what forces not to mess with. I want _my_ daughter to be able to protect herself when danger comes for her.”

He waited me out, nodding once when I was done as if I'd made good points. Then he leaned close when he said, “I wanted my daughter to live a happy, comfortable life, free from the worries that men like you and I bear. I wanted her to live righteously and follow the path of the Lord so that one day she would reach eternal salvation. I wanted her safe, and protected yes.” His nostrils flared, pulse racing. “My mistake was trusting in the power of man to keep her safe instead of the Lord himself.”

‘Trusting in you’, he didn't say, but I heard it clear enough. “Funny, I didn't see the Lord there when your wife and I were storming Arctis Tor to take her back from the fetches. Or when I was protecting her from a pack of black courts. Or when I saved her from a Fomor gang.”

“The Lord’s hand is in everything. He was there every time you triumphed. Just like he was there in Mexico when you let my daughter come home nearly dead and out of her mind. And again when you let your fairy queen sink her claws into her.” He was so close I could feel his breath against my face. “We are not infallible Harry. I never expected you to be perfect. But don't lecture me about failing to protect my Molly, when it was your responsibility.”

“Of course, it couldn't have been _your_ responsibility.” I wasn’t thinking too straight and the voice in the back of my head suggested maybe I should shut up until I calmed down. I ignored it. “For the ten minutes of her childhood that you were actually home, you were too busy telling her she should reject who she is, turn away from the tremendous gift she has. You think you _sheltered_ her? You pushed her right into the heart of it. You tell a kid that she's innately evil, you can't be surprised when she turns to black magic. I have never seen another person so driven, time after time after time, to prove to the whole world that she’s not evil. It’s gotten her in no end of trouble. But yeah, I guess it was better for you to make her feel like a monster than to tell her about them, huh?”

“Get out,” Michael said, so quietly I could hardly hear it. When I didn't move he raised his voice. “Get out of my house!”

“Gladly. It’s stifling in here anyway.” I snarled, stalking past him. I paused for just a second in the living room. “Alright, Molly, Maggie, let's go.”

“Where are we going?” Maggie asked, blinking up at me.

“Home. Why don’t you run upstairs and grab anything that you need for tonight? We’ll arrange to get the rest of your stuff tomorrow.”

Molly and Charity both started asking me questions at the same time, but I shooed Maggie toward the stairs and ignored them. If I opened my mouth, I didn’t know what I might say. “Harry…” Michael started, leaning against the doorway from the kitchen. “I didn't mean–”

“Michael Carpenter, what did you do?” Charity rounded on him. “Harry, you don’t–”

“I understand perfectly well what you meant.” Molly stiffened at the sound of my voice, calculated and cold. “I am taking _my_ daughter out of this house, where I will raise her the way _I_ feel is best. With love, respect, and honesty. Thank you for all you've done. Thank you for your ‘advice’. I'll take care of her from here. Molls, I'm going to wait on the porch. Can you make sure she packs everything she’ll need?”

“Of course.” She nodded, and I noticed she was crying. I wiped the tears away and kissed her soundly.

“Thank you, my love.” I squeezed her hand, just once, inclined my head to Charity in a nod of farewell, and then exited the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Maggie packed light. Molly carried her backpack and I carried Maggie on my shoulders. The snow was still coming down and the walkways I’d shoveled less than an hour prior were already buried. It didn’t phase me. It felt like the heat of my anger should have been enough to melt the ice around me, but I only succeeded in setting off a car alarm. I could tell that shame and guilt were lingering just under that anger, waiting for me to calm down and realize that Michael had hit a nerve and I had lashed out, cruelly, knowing exactly how much it would hurt him. But I didn't want to acknowledge that right now, so instead I focused on how out of line he was, how I was in the right, and how dare he try to tell me how to raise my kid like he was the perfect father… “Daddy?” Maggie asked hesitantly.

I mentally prepared myself for the onslaught of hard questions that I didn’t know how to answer with a raging storm of anger and hurt still brewing in my head. “Yeah, sweetie?”

“Aren’t your feet cold?”

I looked down. Apparently in my rush to get as far away from Michael as possible before I said something, or worse, did something I’d regret even more than what I’d already said, I had neglected to put my boots back on. Oops. “Nah, I don’t really get cold anymore.”

“Oh.” She thought about it. “That must be nice. I don’t like being cold.”

“Me neither.” I agreed. We made it to the porch and I swung her down, placing her on the top step. “We’ll start a fire in the fireplace and you can sit in front of it and forget all about the snow outside, okay?” She nodded eagerly and ran inside as soon as the door opened. I grabbed Mouse by the collar as he proceeded to follow. “Uh-uh. First, you shake that snow out of your fur out here. I don’t want to have to scrub wet dog smell out of the hardwood for the next six months.” He let his tongue droop in a laugh, stood up to lick my face, then padded to the far end of the porch and shook dry. “Good boy,” I confirmed.

Molly said nothing, just watching me as I held open the door for her. After a long moment, she took off her shoes and walked inside, heading straight upstairs. Well, that probably wasn’t a good sign. I lit a fire in the fireplace (“So cool!” Maggie exclaimed at the display of basic magic) and settled her down with a blanket and the remote for the T.V. “Hey sweet pea, I need to talk to Miss Molly for a few minutes. Are you okay if I leave you and Mouse here by yourselves for a little bit?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” She said, huddled up against the shaggy behemoth. 

“I'll be right back,” I assured her. She nodded, just snuggling in closer. With that squared away, I went up the stairs two at a time. Unsure of what (or who) exactly I might find, I turned the knob to the bedroom door with no small amount of trepidation. “Uh, my lady?” I hazarded, peeking in. My only response was a small sniffle, so I pushed the door all the way open. “Erm. Molls?”

Molly stood at the window with her back to me, hugging herself like she was cold. “Hey.”

The anger was gone, and a thousand apologies tried to pour out of my mouth at once. In the moment, I’d been in a fight with someone who I’d thought was a friend and I’d acted accordingly. But seeing Molly upset I realized that I, her new boyfriend who her parents already weren’t thrilled about, got into a shouting match with her dad a week before Christmas and stormed out of the house, just assuming that it would be okay to drag my daughter and her dog to live with us, without any discussion or explanation. Oops. “I’m sorry, back there, I should have talked to you but–”

“It’s okay.” Her voice was small, making her sound at least ten years younger than she was, but she sounded sincere.

“No, it’s not. I mean, we haven’t really discussed it, Maggie being here. But I lost my temper and–”

“It’s okay.” She repeated firmly, as I slipped up behind her, sliding my arms around her shoulders instinctively. From where we stood, we had a clear view of her childhood home, smoke curling beautifully from the chimney, an image fit for the front of a Christmas card with the snow falling down around it. Silence stretched out between us before she finally added, “I heard what you said. What you both said.”

“Shit, Molly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–” She cut me off with a turned head and an unexpectedly fierce kiss. When she finally pulled away I was breathing a little harder and her cornflower blue eyes were red-rimmed and staring at me hard. I started to ask what I was missing when she turned around completely and hugged me tight against her.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her chin nestled against my shoulder.

“…you’re welcome?” I replied, wondering what part of scaring my daughter, losing my temper, moving said daughter in with us without asking, and then storming out of the house warranted thanks.

“For standing up for me,” Molly said quietly, answering the unspoken question. “For being willing to tell my dad the truth, even if it hurts him. I’ve never been that brave.” She sniffled again and I stroked one hand over the back of her head.

“I wasn’t trying to be brave. I just wasn’t thinking.” I sighed, turning away from the window and guiding us both to sit on the edge of the bed. “Your dad was right. I fucked up with Maggie today, didn’t I?”

“Weeeellll…yeah, kind of.” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “But you were kind of right too. Both of you were. I mean, you’re right to tell her about things like Kringle. She _should_ be prepared. But, y’know, she’s also a little girl so you kind of need to…chill out…when you explain them.” I glanced at her skeptically from between my fingers. “Okay, like when you explain stranger danger, you don’t wave your arms around frantically and scream ‘avoid strangers at all costs because they might want to rape, kill or enslave you!!!!’ You say ‘don’t talk to strangers, because they might want to hurt you. Even if they seem nice and try to offer you candy or video games or whatever, you should just say no thank you and leave them alone.’”

I groaned again. “Summation, I fucked up and scarred Maggie for life. Super. I’ll go over tomorrow once we’ve both had a chance to calm down and apologize to Michael.”

“Absolutely not.” Her response was immediate. “I love him but you were right. I’m glad I became your apprentice, but everything leading up to it really sucked. I wish I’d known what was out there, about the Laws and the Nevernever and vampires and warlocks and shapeshifters and everything else. I wish I knew that magic isn’t inherently good or bad, that it’s entirely about how we use it, back before I threw my first veil. I wish I hadn’t lost countless hours crying in bed, unable to sleep, praying and begging God to forgive me for using my gift, for being too weak to resist the temptation of sin over and over again. Maggie shouldn't have to go through that, any of that. She's been through enough.”

Jesus. I'd known it had to be hard to grow up a wizard in the Carpenter household. They were kind, loving parents but if they thought they were protecting you from yourself, that love would come down hard on you. I just hadn’t considered that Molly herself might have started out thinking she was evil just for having powers. I rubbed her bare knee under the short hem of her dress. “I'm sorry Molls. I should have paid more attention back then. It never occurred to me that there might be latent magic in your family until it actually came up.”

“It wasn't your responsibility.” She shook her head. “You struck a nerve and he lashed out. You don't owe an apology to me or my father.”

“If you say so,” I replied dubiously.

Molly kissed me lightly. “I do.” Her smile was small but it was there and that was more than I'd expected so I'd take it.

I raked one hand through my hair. “Alright. Next order of business, what are we going to do about Maggie?”

Her smile deepened, becoming playful. “I believe someone said we'd arrange to collect her things tomorrow. Winter keeps its promises.”

“Yeah, but…” I let out an explosive breath. “Do you really think I should keep her here?”

Molly looked at me for a long moment, searching my face, my eyes. “We’ll clean up the spare bedroom. There's plenty of room in there for her. The backyard has more than enough space for her and Mouse to play. One or the other of us is usually home at least. If we're both out, Mouse is an excellent babysitter for the short term. I'm sure Will and Georgia or Karrin would be willing to babysit for any extended trips. She won't have to change schools. She can still hang out with the other brats. You can start teaching her right away, so that when her magic manifests she's ready for it.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “We’ll raise her with love and respect and honesty, just like you said. And we'll keep her safe, no matter what. That's what we’re going to do, Harry.” She said it with such conviction that it sounded like there was no other possible choice, no way this could go wrong. 

“Is that what you want?” I asked, afraid of the answer. “I mean, you're still young. I’ll understand if this is too much for you right now. Maggie and I can get our own place and–”

“Idiot.” She breathed around a laugh. “I love you. I love Maggie. I'm terrified of her living with us but being a part of your family? Giving that little munchkin everything we both wish we had growing up? How could I want anything else?”

I felt a grin stretch my face from one ear to the other. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” She confirmed, her crystal blue eyes sparkling in the light from the window. “Now let's go get your daughter settled in. I'm sure she has a thousand questions and it's been a long day for her.”

Maggie did not, as it turned out, have a thousand questions. I explained that, as long as she was okay with it, she'd be moving in with us permanently. I showed her the spare room, told her she'd still go to the same school and that we'd be doing some homeschooling as well on less traditional subjects. Throughout it all she said nothing, just watching me with those big brown eyes. “Does that sound good?” I finished awkwardly. She nodded. “Great. Do you have any questions or anything?” She shook her head. “Is something wrong?” She shrugged. I glanced over at Molly’s frown. What if she didn’t want to live here? What if she was upset that I was taking her out of her home? What if she was scared of me after all? I fought to keep my voice steady and asked, “What’s wrong, Maggs?”

Hesitantly she glanced up at me and begrudgingly admitted, “I really wanted to make Christmas cookies.” A startled laugh escaped me and I swung her up over my shoulder like a sack of flour and headed toward the kitchen.

“Well let’s make Christmas cookies, then.”

We made a mess, is what we made. The cookies were just a by-product. In short order, the kitchen was covered in flour, sugar, and sprinkles in a variety of colors and the house was filled with the scent of sugar cookies. When all was said and done, we had three dozen – Molly’s, which were perfectly sculpted and colored and looked like the cover of a magazine; Maggie’s, which weren’t nearly as perfect but were still a very good effort and easily recognizable as their intended shape and coloring; and mine which…well, they were certainly shapes and colors. Maybe not the _right_ shapes and colors, but they tasted good.

More importantly, we had fun doing it. Both of my girls talked and laughed and helped each other, here in our house. Molly tried to wipe a bit of flour off of Maggie’s face and ended up smearing green food dye instead, which gave them both the giggles. Mouse scrounged for scraps on the floor. Molly made dinner, which we ate at the kitchen island. When we were done, we sat by the fire with milk and cookies, with Maggie curled up on my lap, and watched Christmas cartoons. When soft little snores started drifting up to me, I carefully carried her to bed and tucked her in. “Sweet dreams, my Maggie.” I kissed her forehead and she smiled in her sleep and the whole world got a little bit warmer.

Molly leaned in the doorway watching us with a soft smile. “Are you going to come tuck me in as well?” She whispered.

“Please, you’re not going to sleep any time soon,” I replied. We shut the door gently on our way out.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t go to bed.” She flashed me a wicked grin. “Maybe you can tire me out.”

The way that sundress hung from her shoulders, clinging to her hips and baring entirely too much pale white flesh was giving me quite a few ideas about how exactly I could do that. Did that girl have even a single article of clothing in her wardrobe that didn’t ooze sex appeal? Of course, maybe it was just the girl in the clothes. And my knowledge of what she looked like out of them. And my starved libido, running on overdrive. I sighed. “Molly…”

“Ugh.” She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t say that.”

“Your name?”

“Yeah. Not like that. I’ve heard it way too many times before.” She shook her head. “It’s your ‘stop trying to flirt with me, it's making me uncomfortable’ tone. Blech.”

I chuckled. “No, it’s my ‘You’re making me want you right now and I won’t be able to resist the urge to act on it if you keep it up’ tone.”

“Mm. Is that so?” She eyed me hungrily. “If I’d known that before I wouldn’t have stopped so often.” Slender fingers slid under the hem of my shirt, gliding over my hips, my waist, my chest.

“You’re still healing.” I reminded her just before she covered my lips with her own. “Mm. We have to. Be careful. I don’t want. To hurt you.” I told her in between kisses.

“I’m feeling much better.” She protested. I eyed her skeptically. “I _am_.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you carry me up the stairs then?” I teased. Two narrowed blue eyes glared at me. “What? You’re feeling better, aren’t you? Don’t tell me the Winter Lady can’t even lift one old wizard.”

“You’re going to make me do this aren’t you?” She put one hand on her hip and pursed her lips. “Okay, you know what, fine, if that’s what it takes.” In the blink of an eye, with a single muttered word and a flick of her wrist, I was ensnared in thin icy vines, woven into a tight mesh to make a fairly effective net. The vines stuck to my clothes and skin and held me in place like a spider’s web. Another mutter and she had me floating in the air in front of her, one big ball of gangly limbs.

“Cheater.” I declared, hugging my knees and holding as still as possible as she levitated me up the stairs, tittering the entire way up behind me.

“You should have been more specific.” She chided.

“I’m still not going to budge, you know,” I told her. “You’re not well enough for us to…do _that_.”

“You mean have sex?” She stage whispered.

“Yes.” My ears started burning. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Mm. Yet here you are. All tied up in a neat little package for me.” Something in her voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal. We reached the landing at the top of the stairs.

“I mean it, Molls. I won’t. Not until you’re healed.”

“You’re saying that,” she purred, pushing open the door. She pointed at the bed and I glided toward it. “But you haven’t tried to stop me from getting you in bed. You want this.”

I swallowed as she plopped me on the bed and slid out of her dress in one fluid motion. I traced the lines of her tattoo with my eyes, swirling ink a beautiful contrast of perfect white skin, broken only by the angry welt of knit flesh high on her side where the dagger had pierced her. Somehow she was more beautiful because of it and I ached to run my hands over the scar tissue, to feel that break in her smooth, flawless form. I reached for her and found myself pushing aside the vines like they were made of wet paper. Oh. “Of course I want this,” I told her, sitting up against the headboard. “I melted a Bunsen burner trying to make this happen. I just don’t want it badly enough to risk hurting you. We talked about this.”

“We did.” She agreed. Moonlight flooded in through the open window, casting an eerie glow over her naked frame. Her back was to me as she fiddled with one of the drawers in her vanity, and the view was breathtaking. White gold tresses flowed freely down her back, curling just shy of the soft curve of her hips, followed by the dip and rise of her tight buttocks, plump and round, on down to soft thighs and lean, muscular legs. “But I think I’ve found a solution.”

I was having a hard time remembering why we even had a problem. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” She held up a small piece of metal, glinting in the moonlight before climbing into bed.

“The piercings?” I complained as she straddled my hips. “No, Molls, come on. They said you could poison yourself if you put more iron in you.”

Her grin was just a touch manic when she leaned in close and whispered, “It’s not for me.” I started to ask what she meant when a thin lance of fire and acid seared its way through my ear and I yelped. “Don’t be such a baby. You already had it pierced.”

With trembling fingers I reached up to touch my ear lobe, the same one Mab had pierced with her ice opal months prior. I felt the familiar jolt of Molly’s stainless steel studs. “Yikes, give a guy some warning before you stab him.” My body suddenly felt heavier, and every one of my limbs started to ache and protest at once. “Ugh. I think it’s working though.” I rolled my neck and it popped like bubble wrap. “Being a regular human sucks. Everything hurts.”

“Not everything.” She assured me, stripping off my socks and rubbing my feet. I’m not a foot guy, but god damn, it felt good enough to cum right then and there. Next came my pants, gone with a wave of her hand, and her fingers kneaded my calves, shins, knees, even my thighs. I made indelicate groans and just flopped back against the bed. She ignored the tent in my boxers for now, moving up to divest me of my shirt. I almost cried from how good it felt when she worked at the muscles of my arms and shoulders, stiff and aching from my hours of shoveling. Fingers dug into the base of my neck, massaging until my entire body felt limp and boneless, and then her lips were on mine and the world was full of fire and sensation. I pulled her against me, one hand wrapped in her hair, the other clutching the small of her back. She gripped my shoulders so hard it hurt and I didn’t care.

“Mm. This was a terrible idea.” I told her, my voice rough as I ran my hand along her side, relishing the feeling.

“You’ve had a hard day,” She said, nibbling playfully at my ear. “I wanted to make sure you had a better night.”

I wanted to say something witty and suave in response, but she shifted and her thigh pressed against my erection and thinking became a challenge. I grunted. “I need you. Now.” It was a plea and a command and a confession all at once and I felt her breath hitch.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Molly said with a laugh and with a snap of her fingers my last bit of clothing disappeared. We rolled around in the blankets, playfully fighting for dominance. With the piercing in, she was stronger than me, but I still held my own. She let me win (I harbor no illusions that she couldn't have toppled me over if she wanted) and I worshiped her body with my hands and mouth. It had been weeks since we'd been together like this and I was determined to make the most of it. It wasn't long before I had her gasping under me, voice strained with need. She bucked her hips up against me, the wet heat of her sex pressed to my firm erection. A strangled noise escaped my throat and I shifted, ready to give in to what we both wanted. 

My first clue that something was wrong was when the back of my head dented the drywall on the opposite side of the room. I blinked, trying to make sense of where I was and what was going on, when a blur of impossibly pale flesh and white hair flung itself toward me, lifted me over its head, and hurled me against the ceiling. Distantly I thought, _oh, that's Molly_ as I fell back to the bed in a sprawl of limbs. She pounced on top of me and started slashing at my arms and legs with what turned out to be claws, aiming for my throat and I had another thought: _oh shit, the Winter Lady is trying to kill me._ I tried to choke out an incantation for my shield but the room was spinning and my head was pounding and without any kind of focus item I couldn't manage it. 

I rolled away and off the bed, but she followed, kicking me as I curled up trying desperately to think through the pain, fear, and confusion. She punted me like a soccer ball and I skittered over the carpet and through the open bathroom door. The tile was cold on my bare skin, which actually felt good on my open wounds. “Molly, what the hell are you doing?” I croaked out, managing to get my feet under me. It took more effort than I thought I had, wobbling like I was, but I successfully conjured a shield in the doorway. I know because a second after I did, she slammed into it, trying to reach me with outstretched talons. “Seriously, what the fuck?” It was like she couldn't hear me. “Molly? Molls?” I couldn't hold the shield for long, dizzy and nauseous with what I was sure was a concussion. 

“I will rip you limb from limb, wizard.” She said, her voice rasping and horrible. “I will bathe in your blood.”

Not the most original threats I'd ever received but they were effective by dint of her conviction. Creative? No. But she meant what she said. “My Lady,” I acknowledged, “My sincerest apologies if I have offended in some way. I only sought to–”

“Not _your_ Lady, apeling!” She snapped. “I am the morning frost, I am the first snow, I am the twilight and the sighing wind. I am not yours, and you may not take me.”

“Of course, your majesty,” I replied, giving her a short bow that almost made me lose my balance. Note to self: contents of noggin under pressure, do not shake. “I meant no offense, and I mean you no harm.”

“Lies,” The Lady hissed, flinging herself at the shield with enough force to almost break it. “You are only prolonging your death, mortal fool.”

“Lady Winter,” I said in what I’d hoped would be a tone of reason but which came out more like strained pleading as sweat beaded my forehead. “I am but your servant, your Knight. If I have committed a transgression it was unintentional.”

“Intentions are irrelevant, mortal. And you are no Knight.” She made a slashing motion and my shield just fell apart. Shit. My heart was pounding, my head aching, and my body hurt in more places than I could count. I gave myself a mental shake and took a breath as everything slowed. I’d be damned if after everything I’d gone through I was going to die naked in a bathroom, torn to pieces by the entity possessing my girlfriend with zero explanation. I brought my arms up instinctively to defend and almost smacked myself. The piercing. Of course I was no Knight. That was the whole point of that stupid piercing.

I fumbled to remove the iron stud with clumsy shaking fingers. It fell to the floor with a clink just as she bounced me off of the wall. I took the towel rack down with me. Winter flooded me, instinctive and instant. My aches and pains and ailments went away, irrelevant background noise to the symphony in front of me. “Have it your way then.” I snarled and launched myself at her. 

Everything is a blur from there. I remember hot blood beneath my teeth, soft flesh under my hands, struggle and adrenaline, the thrill of the hunt, the fight. I came to with Molly on top of me, covered in blood. It looked like we had crashed through the glass shower door, broken shards embedded in both of us and scattered everywhere. Her eyes were wide and pained, at least as confused as I was. “Harry?” She whispered quietly. 

“Molls,” I confirmed, with a short nod. “You uh…you okay?”

“I. Yeah. I. Did I…what happened?”

I grunted and lifted her up and off of me. I was disturbed to see that I’d evidently been inside her at some point since my ejaculate was running down her leg. Yuck. I sat up, glass grinding against tile under me as I did, and pushed my hair out of my face. “Well, I thought we were going to sleep together. Then out of nowhere, you started trying to kill me. I took the piercing out to use Winter to defend myself and uh. Your guess is as good as mine from that point.”

“Oh.” Confusion changed to horror and she brought one hand up to her mouth. “Oh god. I didn't even think. I could have killed you. I'm so fucking stupid.” She wiped a hand down her face, settling over her mouth. 

Wondering what I had missed, I asked, “Care to explain?”

“I told you before. I can't have sex, the mantle requires me to be pure.”

“See, you say that, but we’ve done things together that would make Lara Raith blush so I think you might be mistaken.” I started picking glass out of my arm.

“Right but you’re the exception, remember? That’s the Knight’s job.” She shook her head. “The _Knight’s_ job. I should have known if we neutralize your mantle…”

“Then I’m not the Knight and you’re forced to defend your honor.” I finished with a low whistle. “Wow, okay.” And suddenly her reticence when we first started out months ago made sense. If she was programmed to attack anyone who tried to take her maidenhead, of course she’d be hesitant to try anything with me, even if she was pretty sure she’d found a loophole.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I should have thought about it but I didn’t. Are you…did I…?”

“I’m fine, Molls. It’s okay. Are _you_ okay? I don’t know what all I did to you but um,” I cleared my throat and looked meaningfully at the mess between her thighs. She followed my gaze and blushed.

“I think we both wanted that. And yeah, other than being a living pincushion I think I’m alright.” She held out her arms and inspected them. “Maybe we should get cleaned up.”

It took a while for us to do so, picking glass out of wounds and washing each other down. Her wounds started to heal up as soon as the glass was removed. Several of mine required careful stitches, which Molly did with an expert hand while I sat on the lid of the toilet. We made sure every ounce of blood was washed clean of the glass before bagging it up for the recycling bin. I tried not to jump every time she moved too suddenly and she pretended she wasn’t worriedly watching me in return. If there was any consolation to be had, it’s that the soundproofing spells Molly had built into the walls of the bedroom were top-notch, because when I checked in, Maggie was still sleeping soundly. Mouse gave me an anxious glance but a reassuring smile put him at ease. I trudged back upstairs, slumped down into bed and curled up with Molly to sleep the sleep of the dead.

I’m not really a big “Christmas” guy. I’m not really big on any holidays. Nothing against them, it’s just that I’ve been a solitary guy, no family, no significant other, for a good chunk of my life and holidays are about family. Christmas, in particular, has always held little appeal. I don’t care about the birth of Christ, nor do I care about Yule or Saturnalia or any other so-called pagan traditions that have been appropriated by the Christian church. Yet somehow, I found myself standing on the top rung of a step stool, a tool I’d never needed before in my entire life, to put a star on the top of the ridiculously huge Christmas tree I’d been coerced into purchasing and driving home. Any attempts to persuade my household that we did not, in fact, need the largest tree on the lot were met with protests of “But it’s Christmas!”

In part, it was because Christmas was a very big deal for the Carpenters. In a huge, Catholic family it was hard for it not to be a big deal, I guess. And Molly was no exception. It also had a lot to do with my daughter. Maggie was unusually quiet and somber for the first few days after she moved in. Naturally, I worried it was because she was unhappy with her new living arrangements, or to be living with me instead of the Carpenters. It was true that our home, try as we might, didn’t have quite the same vibrant warmth as Michael and Charity’s. Of course, we didn’t have a plethora of angels keeping watch over it either, so that might have had something to do with it.

Molly, always better with the emotional stuff than me, told me to stop worrying. I didn’t, but she told me to anyway. She was 100% convinced that Maggie was happier than ever that she was living with me, and that there had to be something else wrong. After a little bit of wheedling, teeth pulling and the promise of hot chocolate, she was able to coax out an answer. “Christmas isn’t the same without Santa!”

“But there is a Santa, honey,” I told her patiently, kneeling beside her while she sat on the couch with tears in her eyes.

“I know, but you said he was a bad guy!”

I glanced at Molly guilty. “No, not a bad guy. He’s just….he’s a really powerful guy. And really powerful people can be dangerous. Being dangerous doesn’t necessarily make someone a bad guy. It just means you need to be extra careful around them. And if you’re a tiny little munchkin like you,” I ruffled her hair. “It means you’re better off avoiding them.”

“Like your boss.”

“Like my…” I huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh. “Yeah, kiddo. Like my boss.”

“Is Santa a jerk like her?”

That definitely garnered a laugh. “Uh. No. I wouldn’t call him a jerk. He’s…intense. But nice.”

“Does he really bring presents?”

“I don’t actually know,” I said slowly. “I didn’t think to ask him.”

“Sometimes,” Molly added, confidently. “For kids who are really nice and really good.”

“Really?” Maggie and I asked in unison. She nodded and Maggie gasped. “Do you think he’ll bring me presents?”

“Maybe. Have you been really good?” Asked Molly.

Maggie frowned. “I don’t know about _really_ good. I’ve been okay I guess. Middle good. Does he bring presents to kids who are middle good?”

“Don’t put yourself down,” I told her, kissing her forehead. “You’re always really good. If he doesn’t bring you presents we’ll know he _is_ a jerk after all.”

“I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t call Santa a jerk, daddy.”

“I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t try to shoot him either, but that hasn’t stopped me,” I muttered. “I’m definitely not really good. I’m not even middle good, kid. Santa isn’t bringing me any presents so I’ll call him whatever I want.”

“As long as he’s not within earshot.” Molly (accurately) teased. “Don’t worry squirt. You’ll have plenty of presents, whether Santa brings one or not.”

“But I want to see him so I can tell the other kids at school that they’re wrong and I know it.” After a second she added, “Don’t worry, dad. I won’t go near him. I just want to see him.”

“How about this? We’ll get the house all decorated for Christmas so that Santa feels really welcome and maybe if you're lucky you'll catch a glimpse of him, okay?” Molly’s suggestion was met with enthusiasm and her and Maggie poured themselves into it. We bought out the holiday section of the local Target, and our home was suddenly filled with garland and lights and ribbons and the scent of pine. Stockings were hung by the chimney with care. The tree took up an entire corner of our living room and was covered in all manner of baubles and ornaments. I drew the line at putting an angel on top – I could practically hear Mr. Sunshine’s laughter at the thought and he didn't need a bigger head than he already had.

“Do you think Kringle will actually show up?” I asked Molly that night as we lay in bed. “Does he really do that?”

“He does, but I don't think he'll show up here. After Thanksgiving, I added to the wards. Nothing from the Nevernever is getting through here without an iron-clad invitation. _Nothing_.”

“An iron-clad invitation seems like a bad way to invite in one of the fae,” I observed. Molly rolled her eyes. “She's going to be crushed if she doesn't see him.”

“So go get a Santa costume. Just because he's real doesn't mean you can't fake it like every other parent in the world.”

“Get a costume?” I hummed thoughtfully. “That's not a half-bad idea, Molls.”


	5. Chapter 5

“This is a very bad idea, Dresden.” Gard informed me, as we rode steadily up, up, up a Monoc Securities elevator shaft.

“It'll be fine,” I replied, with a confidence I didn't feel. Now that we were here I was starting to suspect that she was right. “He likes me.”

“Whatever you say. As long as we're clear that I advised against this. I don't want any bad blood with your employer or your companion should things go awry.”

“Don't worry, neither of them knows that I'm here.” I gave her a cheery smile as the doors slid open. 

Donar Vadderung didn't keep me waiting for long, which was good because _he_ might have liked me but his receptionists didn't at all. They were busy eyeing me up like a juicy bit of roadkill with their beady black eyes when his door opened and he called me in. “Sir Dresden, what an unexpected delight. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, sweets, have you had lunch?” We did the familiar dance of hospitality, and I eagerly accepted, glad to have the protection of guest rights. Once that was squared away, he leaned back in his chair. “I am told you have a favor to ask of me, Sir Knight. Is that so?”

I chose my words carefully. “A favor yes. Though I ask it just as a man. I am not here on behalf of Winter or my Queen, sir.”

There was approval in his smiling eyes, or at least in the visible one. “And what can I do for you, Harry Dresden the man?”

I fidgeted with my hands, unable to meet his gaze. “Someone once told me that mantles are like masks. They can be taken up and set aside, like costumes. Is that true?”

“I wonder who would have told you such a thing?” He rumbled with a laugh. “You've seen this for yourself. You do not need my answer. You know the truth of it.”

I nodded. “Is it possible to…borrow a mantle? To wear someone else's mask for a short time and give it back?”

He regarded me steadily. “You do not need an answer for this either, Dresden. Did you not lead the Hunt in my stead?”

“But that was Halloween. Can it be done on a normal night?”

The lines on his face deepened and he suddenly looked much older. “With the right rituals. For the right mantle. Why do you ask?” His tone warned me that he'd better like the answer. 

My fidgeting continued, eyes fixed on my lap while I blurted out, “I want to be Kringle.” I hazarded a glance up at him and his expression was impossible to read. “Just for an hour or two. Not even a full day.” He was still stone-faced and impassive and I thought that I should probably shut up and cut my losses and run in case I’d offended him but my mouth kept going without my input. “My daughter is being picked on in school for believing in Santa and she really wants to see him. It’ll make her Christmas and it’s our first Christmas together so I really want to make sure it’s special for her, but I know you’re busy and I don’t expect you to drop by just for her, so I thought if I could borrow it, just for an hour or two to show her he’s real…” I trailed off, realizing how ridiculous the request sounded now that I was saying it out loud.

Vadderung’s laughter started at the creases of his ice-blue eye, spread to the rest of his face and bubbled up out of his throat straight from his belly. “A long time ago, Woden led the Wild Hunt all through the winter. During Yule, his people made great sacrifices to him, bathing their temples in the blood of livestock. And in return, he brought gifts from astride his eight-legged steed. When Christianity came to his countries, the church brought their own holidays with them, their own legends, and they tied them to the yuletide so that the so-called heathens would be more inclined to celebrate.

“They brought Saint Nicholas and Sinterklaas and suddenly Woden’s people were giving new names to old traditions, changing the meanings, the legends. Now he was a jolly old elf, fat and plump, who came with presents for children who were well-behaved and followed the laws of the White God. And it was the children of all things that did him in because, you see, belief is a powerful thing, and no one in all of Midgard has the power of belief like children. They believe with all of their hearts, and their faith is pure in a way that adults lose. And that power, amplified by thousands of children, is so strong that it could turn the mightiest of war gods into a jolly, fat old man.”

I sat quietly, unsure of what to say. I mean, how do you respond when someone tells you their very essence has been corrupted by children? But he sat there expectantly, waiting for me to say something. “I'm sorry. That must have been hard for-for Woden.”

Whatever he'd wanted from me, that hadn't been it. He sighed. “No matter. Time changes us all. As do children. Hence the mighty wizard Dresden, Warden and Winter Knight, sitting before me begging to be Santa Claus, eh?” He laughed as though what he’d said was uproariously funny. “No, lad. I will not lend you my mantle.”

“Sir, I understand it’s a big ask. I’d owe you a massive favor. I just–”

“I said no and that’s all I’m going to say.” He said it kindly, but firm. “For starters, you couldn’t hold both the Knight’s mantle and Kringle’s at the same time and I don’t think your Queen would be too happy with either of us if you gave up one for the other. Additionally, it’s a busy time of year for Kringle. I don’t have time for you to go gallivanting about on your own adventures.”

I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. Well, it had been a long shot anyway. I could always go buy a red suit and stuff it with a pillow like every other parent in Chicago. “Yeah, okay. Well, thank you for your time anyway.”

“Harry,” His deep voice held a hint of reproach. “Your little girl will have more than enough magic in her life, Christmas and otherwise. She doesn’t need you playing Santa Claus for that.”

“You're right. And she should probably get used to believing in things that the other kids don't.” I conceded. “Thank you for hearing me out.”

“For you, anytime. All I ask in return is that you remember the story of old Woden this holiday season.” We stood together and he held the door open for me.

“I will,” I promised. “May you have a festive Yule, Mr. Vadderung.”

He practically beamed in response. “The same to you and yours, Mr. Dresden. Good day.”

They do not make Santa costumes for people who are nigh 7 feet tall, I learned. I also learned that there is no combination of fake beards and pillows and fabric that can make a freakishly tall and gangly wizard look convincingly like old St. Nick. Each permutation that I tried only made Molly laugh harder, and even once she took pity on me and started stuffing the suit herself it still looked sad.

“I’ve never seen a Santa look so dejected before.” She teased. I had flopped myself onto the edge of the bed, the white silk of the pillow that was supposed to be my ‘belly like a bowl full of jelly’ poking out from the bottom of the red jacket and my beard hanging off of just one ear.

“I want her to have the perfect Christmas, Molls,” I said, putting my head in my hands. The tip of the hat flopped forward and the stupid white pom-pom on the end smacked my fingers. “But I can’t even get the Santa Claus thing right.”

“Harry,” Her arms twined around me from behind, the bed shifting under her added weight. “You don’t have to be Santa for her to have the perfect Christmas. It’s her first Christmas with her dad.”

That seemed like all the more reason for me to really get this right, but I didn't feel like arguing so I changed the subject. “And your first without yours. Molls, it's Christmas, are you sure you don't want to–”

“No.” Her voice cracked like a whip. “Neither of us has anything to apologize for. If they want to spend Christmas with us, they can come apologize. Besides, it's not like he was home for most of our Christmases. And it's _not_ the first time I'll be spending Christmas without them.” Right. Two years ago she’d been living on the streets, training with my Godmother and running from the White Council. Because of me. She held me tighter, evidently thinking the same thing. “Either way, it’s my first Christmas with you and Maggie. You two are all I need to make it the best one ever.”

I felt a smile soften my face. “Even if I look like a bargain bin knock-off Santa?”

“Oh no, the Santa costume is a lost cause on you. You look like a bum jacked a mall Santa’s clothes and then got drunk in them. I’m just going to put a glamour on myself, let her get a peek and then pop over to the Nevernever.”

“You’re a genius,” I told her, kicking myself for not thinking of doing exactly that. Of course, my glamours were terrible, and my entries and exits from the Nevernever weren’t nearly as smooth as hers, so it made more sense for her to do it anyway, but still. It was a brilliant solution.

“And like all geniuses, so often underappreciated in my time.” She kissed the top of my head. “Now take that ridiculous costume off before I burn it.”

“That sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to get me undressed.” I quipped as I stripped out of the pants (the cuffs of which came to the tops of my calves) and jacket.

“I will never not be looking for an excuse to get you undressed,” Molly confirmed with a smirk, her eyes roaming all over me. “I’m still not used to the sight of it.”

“I know the feeling,” I replied, leering pointedly. She was still dressed but lay on her stomach, and the “neck” line of her blouse left little to the imagination. I’d seen the contents enough times to be able to vividly imagine them anyway. She protested when I pulled my pants back on, but that didn’t stop me. “I need to finish Maggie’s present.”

“Do you want company?” I did. But I also wanted to put the finishing touches on Molly’s gift. Plus, as much as I appreciated her company, years of experience told me she was often more of a distraction than a help, especially now that we didn't have to keep our hands to ourselves.

“Nah, Bonnie’s plenty of company. Besides, you look comfortable.”

She stretched out further on the bed, snuggling deeper into the covers and proving my point. “But the bed’s so cold and lonely all by myself.”

“I’ll be back up soon enough.” I leaned down to steal a kiss.

“Okay. Try not to set my lab on fire this time?”

“You people. Always ‘don’t burn this’, ‘don’t set that on fire’.” I declared in mock offense, throwing my hands up in the air. “How’s a guy supposed to have any fun?”

“You hurry back upstairs, and I’ll show you some alternate options.” She said with a wink.

As tempting as the offer was, I did not hurry back upstairs. The work I was doing was delicate, and I wasn’t willing to rush and make any mistakes. For Maggie, I'd worked a silver pentagram just like my own. I had purchased a new chain for myself and melted down my old one. It wasn't enough metal by itself but even mixed with new silver, it would be enough to form a sympathetic bond between our two pendants. As long as she had the amulet on or nearby, I'd always be able to find her. At the end of the day, it was geared for defense – a different colored gem inserted at each point of the star and each with a different function: one triggered a shield, one a blast of concussive force, one held a compulsion to make her seem uninteresting, allowing her to camouflage herself with her surroundings, a fourth would allow her to move silently and the last was a glorified distress signal, which would let me know she was in trouble. 

Making any one of those for myself to use would have been easy. Making all of them would have taken some time but would have been manageable. Making all of them to be used by someone else, without that person having their own magic to draw from, had required a ton of research, time and more energy than I thought I could possibly give. Eventually, I found a way to key the spells to our familial bond, so that when she touched the gems with intent it would bill the energy cost to me. They'd each only work for a short time, but it would hopefully be long enough to get her out of any scrape and to a safe distance in time for the cavalry to arrive, or for Mouse to remove the threat, whichever came first. I’d been working on it almost every night for weeks now, pouring everything I had into making it not just functional but perfect until I was so exhausted I just tottered upstairs and passed out. Assuming I made it that far. A few nights Molly had found me slumped over the table in the middle of the night and dragged me upstairs.

Molly’s gift didn’t require as much spellwork, but the actual metalworking was more intense. I’d spent a long time thinking about what a woman with more raw supernatural talent, better connections and significantly more material wealth than me could possibly want or need that she didn’t already have. Looking at the end result of a month of labor, I wasn’t too sure I’d found the answer. “She’s going to hate it.” I decided, holding up the finished project.

Bonnie, who’d been hovering just over my left shoulder, brushed up against my cheek. “She’s going to love it.”

The white gold surface reflected Bonnie’s vibrant green light and I frowned at it harder. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. She’ll love anything you give her. Because you gave it to her.”

I grumbled, not agreeing or disagreeing. “Unless it pisses her off. Or upsets her.”

“Possible, but unlikely. It’s more likely that you are just thinking negatively because you are nervous and you have a tendency to assume the worst, probably as a defense mechanism, since if you expect her to react poorly you won’t be as upset if she does. Which she won’t.” I gave her a flat look and she gave the impression of shrugging. “It’s pretty and heartfelt. She’ll like it.”

The gift twinkled mockingly at me, sparkling like the moon on fresh snow, and I threw it in a small box for wrapping before I could second-guess the decision. “I hope you’re right.”

Alicia didn’t even tease me when I answered the door, she just asked for her sister. “Blowing up my phone isn't enough, now they're sending you brats over to guilt-trip me?” Molly sneered, coming to stand near the door but making no move to invite her sister in. Molly had gone over the day after my fight with Michael to bring the rest of Maggie’s stuff over to our house. I don't know what exactly had transpired between her and Charity and she didn't want to talk about it. All I know is she was in a good mood when she left and she came home in a fury, slamming the door shut behind her with a howl of frustration. Mentioning Charity or Michael was a good way to get her to break whatever item (such as the arm of the sofa or an unsuspecting wizard mid-snuggle) was in her grip.

“Actually, mom doesn't know I'm here,” Alicia admitted with a guilty glance back toward her house. “This was kind of my own thing.”

“Uh-huh.” Molly didn't sound like she was convinced. “And this has nothing to do with Charity expecting me to come over with my tail between my legs to apologize and be a good little girl again, right?”

“Molly, I have never gotten between you and mom when you’ve done this sort of thing before, I'm not about to start now.” Alicia sounded disappointed and exhausted. “Apologize, don’t apologize, I don’t really care. But mom and dad aren’t the only people in the family, you know?”

“And?”

“And, don’t be a bitch and ruin Christmas for everyone else just so that you and your boyfriend can have the last word.” She snapped. Molly rocked back, apparently as unaccustomed to hearing her sister assert herself as I was. “I get that you’re all grown up now and mommy and daddy can’t boss you around because you’re the high queen of the leprechauns or whatever, but maybe you should actually grow up and think about someone other than yourself. Like Hope. And Harry, _our_ Harry, in case you forgot there’s more than one.”

“You’re just like her. I knew this was about Harry.”

Alicia scoffed. “When isn’t it about Harry with you?” She shook her head and turned to walk away. “He’s always been more important to you than your family anyway. I should have known you wouldn’t listen. But yeah, _I’m_ just like mom.”

I stood perfectly still, ignoring the frost creeping up the edge of the door and pretending that I wasn’t there. Molly’s eyes looked like they might shoot lasers or ice beams or something and I didn’t want to make a single motion and accidentally draw that wrath. “I’m _nothing_ like her.” Molly declared in a tone that a man more foolish than I might have thought belied her statement. “And maybe Harry has always been so important to me because he actually treats me like family, instead of telling me I’m just a fuck up all the time.”

The younger girl paused but didn’t turn around. “When we were kids, I thought you were always going to be there, that no matter what you’d always watch over us and have our backs. I miss that feeling.” Her shoulders hunched and I thought she might be crying, but her voice remained steady. “If you could at least pretend that you’re still a part of the family, just for Christmas, just for the younger kids who haven’t figured it out yet… I’d consider it a favor. That’s what you trade in now, right? Favors?”

“Alicia…” Molly’s voice was not as steady. “That’s not… it’s not you guys. I love you. You have to know that, right?”

“I don’t, actually. I haven’t known that for a long time.”

“Leech.” Her voice cracked on the familiar nickname. “Of course I love you. You’re my little sister. You and the rest of the brats mean the world to me.”

She looked back over her shoulder. “Prove it. If you mean it, then prove it. Everyone else will be there tonight. If you still care, you will be too.”

Molly paled, which was a feat considering how pale she was naturally. “I can’t do that. I’ll come over tomorrow morning for presents, if it means that much to you that I’m there but, I can’t go tonight.”

Alicia just shrugged and turned away again, continuing down the steps and toward their house. “If you can’t make it tonight, don’t bother. Goodbye, your majesty.”

I thought Molly might go after her, tell her to wait, change her mind and agree to go over tonight, but she just shut the door and leaned against it as if it was the only thing keeping her upright. “Damnit.” She whispered, almost too quiet for me to hear. “God fucking damnit. Leech…”

Wordlessly I gathered her in my arms and she let me, burying her face against my chest. Her body shook with tears and I just held her closer, letting her get it all out and wondering what the hell kind of trouble I’d managed to stir up in the Carpenter household. It wasn’t enough for me to fuck up my own life, friends, and family, now I was fucking up Molly’s as well. “They’re going to Mass tonight. Midnight Mass at St. Mary’s. It’s what they always do on Christmas Eve. That’s where she wants me to go.” Molly sounded empty, hollow when she spoke.

“She’ll understand once she calms down. I’ll explain it to her.”

“Oh, and won’t she just love that?” She sniffled. “How could she not know that I love her, that I love all of those little snot-nosed punks? Yeah, I might fight with mom but _them_?”

“It’s been a rough and emotional couple of months, babe,” I told her, rubbing her back lightly. “Give her some time, and she’ll see reason. She’s always struck me as a level-headed kid.”

“Yeah, her and Hope take after dad, I guess.” She sighed. “I want to be there, I just can’t. I haven’t been in a church in…well, since the night we rescued Maggie I guess. Wait, no, a few months ago I…but that wasn’t consecrated anymore. And I guess technically I was in a church last year. But I burned it to the ground so…”

“You burned down a church?!” I exclaimed, a little too loudly for the small hallway we stood in.

“It was corrupted by creepy Lovecraftian cultists.” She protested. “It was the only way to be safe.”

“You are officially no longer allowed to talk about me burning down buildings. At least I’ve never burned down a church.”

“Yeah well, that’s all the more reason for me to not go to St. Mary’s. I already won’t hear the end of it from my mother. What if I walk in and spontaneously combust? Then I’ll have to add ‘church arson’ to the list of reasons she’s disappointed in me.”

“Maybe we should go over before the service. I know you don’t want to apologize to them but we can at least put aside the arguments for a day so that you and the kids can hang out and open presents and have a Christmas together.”

“She’ll never agree to that. You know Charity. If I don’t apologize she’ll just continue lecturing me until I lose my shit again.” She smoothed out my t-shirt in a nervous gesture. “I’ll just have to make it up to Alicia later. Besides, I want to spend my Christmas Eve here, with you guys. I’ve attended enough Masses for a lifetime.” I frowned but didn’t push it.

Some kids build snowmen. Some kids build snow forts. My kid had a whole damn snow castle in our backyard. It turns out when your dad is dating the Winter Lady, you can build whatever you want out of snow without having to worry about it falling down. Maggie had an entire network of tunnels dug into the snow (with considerable help from Mouse, doing his best St. Bernard impression) with stairs to fortifications on top. I, in turn, just had a lazy mound of slightly higher snow to hide behind as my child hurled snowball after snowball from her battlements. “Take that, fiend!” her small voice chimed as she pelted me square in the nose.

I groaned theatrically. “Curse you, Princess Maggie! I’ll get you for that!” I lobbed a few of my own snowballs carefully her way. One crashed against the walls of her fort, one narrowly missed her head, knocking the Burger King crown she wore askew, and one smacked Mouse right on his paw, which rested atop her wall. I’d thrown them lightly and even if I hadn’t, the great mongrel had been hit by cars and walked it off before, so I was sure I hadn’t hurt him, but he howled in pain anyway before flopping down out of sight.

“Nooo!” Maggie shrieked. “Poor Prince Mouse! You shan’t have died in vain. Captain!”

Molly, wearing a cape made out of a navy blue fleece blanket, poked her head out of a tunnel on the far side of the yard. “Yes, my liege?”

“The villainous wizard has slain Prince Mouse! We must avenge him!”

“For Mouse!” Molly shouted, holding aloft an empty wrapping paper tube.

“For Mouse!” Maggie echoed. And suddenly the air was filled with snowballs, all being hurled at me from multiple directions. I summoned my shield, trying to deflect them, but _someone_ was cheating so the snow managed to work its way around it, including by coming from _under_ me.

“There are too many of them, fall back men!” I declared, to me, myself and I, falling to the ground behind my snow mound.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a small voice beside me said, “My Lord, are you in danger?” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at the sight of Toot-Toot, armed and ready for battle.

“No, Toot,” I said quietly. “It’s just a game. We’re pretending to fight, using snowballs. That’s all.”

“You can’t hide forever scoundrel!” The dread Captain Molly declared. “Prince Mouse was a hero. You’ll pay for your crimes!”

“Ah, war games.” Toot said knowingly. “Yes, good. I’ve been doing skirt itches with the Guard as well. Always good to stay in fighting shape!”

“Skirt itch….skirmishes.” I realized before I could ask. I fought to hide my smile. “Good, yes. This is like a skirmish. But for fun.”

“You are having fun right now?” He asked, giving me a dubious once-over.

I was mashed into the snow, breathing heavily from exertion and my clothes were frozen solid. I grinned up at him. “Most fun I’ve had in a long time. No need to call in the troops, Major General. I’m good here without your help.”

“Oookaaay.” He said skeptically, frowning. “Call if something changes, kay?”

“Absolutely.” I agreed, waving him off, when an idea came to me. Just like the Grinch, it was a wonderful, awful idea. “On second thought, Toot. There _is_ something I could use your help with.”

A moment later, I had one of my socks tied around a stick and I waived it frantically above the edge of my half-assed fortifications. “Is that an off-white flag of surrender you waive, villain?” Molly called.

“Villains don’t use bleach, cut me some slack,” I called back. “But yes. I am no match for the awesome power of Princess Dresden and her armies.”

Maggie laughed boisterously, in a way that made me think she was probably better suited for the villain than the princess. “We accept your surrender. Captain, take him to the dungeon.”

“Uh, where’s the dungeon, my liege?” Molly asked, actually binding my wrists with a circlet of ice and an impish grin. Maggie just shrugged, so I was trundled off to sit on a plastic lawn chair at the base of one of the towers on either end of the castle. They were about as tall as me when I was standing. “Don’t you get any ideas about esc–” Molly was cut off by an ear-piercing shriek. She dropped character at once. “Maggie! Are you oka– EEEEEP!” She made a deafening squeal of her own and I started cackling.

“Fools! You led me straight inside your walls, where I could summon my hidden assassins!” Toot-Toot and one of his men flitted to either side of where I stood, having successfully dumped fistfuls of snow down the backs of both girls’ shirts. I hadn’t expected it to do much to Molly but the element of surprise must have been enough. “Excellent job men! Your work is done.”

“I should have known.” Maggie declared, falling to her knees and making a hacking, coughing noise. “Sweet Prince Mouse, I join you now.” She collapsed on top of Mouse, whose tail was thumping solidly against the wall beside him, but who was otherwise motionless, tongue sticking out to play dead.

“Treacherous knave!” Molly sneered and I thought immediately of the night we'd fought after Thanksgiving and our ensuing…tussle. I blushed, which made her eyes dance with suppressed laughter and I knew it had been intentional. “You may have defeated us, but you still haven’t won. Without the fair Princess to support it this castle will self destruct. Look, it’s already starting!” She crooked one finger and a seven-foot column of snow collapsed on top of me, followed by the rest of the snow castle.

Maggie laughed with glee, riding the avalanche down, giggling twice as hard when I burrowed my way out and snatched her up, tickling her relentlessly. Molly came to her rescue, tackling me to the snow and holding me down until she and my daughter had both had the chance to dump snow down my shirt in retaliation. It didn’t really bother me, but I shivered and squirmed like it did to make them happy. It was starting to get dark by that point, so I wrestled my way free, took Maggie under one arm and threw Molly over the other shoulder and dragged all three of us into the warmth of the house. The girls changed into pajamas while I cooked dinner and we settled down for a cozy night in.

I put up a token effort of protest when Molly and Maggie started pleading with me to be able to open presents early. Honestly, it really didn’t matter to me whether they opened all of their gifts on or before Christmas. And I may have been just a little excited to see what they thought about their gifts. Maybe. Possibly. So I put up the tough guy act for as long as I could stand it, but eventually, I caved. “Fine. But just one. And I get to pick.”

There was some grumbling, but Molly shot me a knowing smile when I handed her gift over. “You first, Squirt.” She said, nudging Maggie. Maggie didn’t need to be told twice. She carefully removed the bow, placing it on Mouse’s head, then tore into the paper so hard I was worried the box would go flying. I wrung my hands behind my back, waiting anxiously to see her reaction. It wasn’t a fun gift, really more practical than anything. And she _was_ just a kid. She’d probably have preferred a doll or a video game or something. Hell, short of socks and underwear, tactical jewelry was probably the last thing she’d want.

But when she took off the lid her whole face lit up and she gasped, stroking the pendant almost reverently. “It’s beautiful.”

“I know it’s not fun,” I started. “But it’ll – Oof!” She bowled into me with a tackling hug that almost knocked us both into the Christmas tree.

“It’s like yours. We’ll match!” She excitedly declared. Two big brown eyes looked up at me in wonder and she wore the biggest smile I’d ever seen, not just on her, but on anyone. You'd think I’d given her a unicorn or something.

“Yeah, kiddo,” I said with a laugh, pulling my own pentacle out to let it rest on my chest. “We’ll match. You and me and Uncle Thomas.”

“Awesome.” Maggie breathed, letting the necklace dangle from her hand to glint in the firelight. She sounded like she might have meant it in the original sense of the word like it was truly awe-inspiring. I knelt down in front of her and carefully took the chain from her hands, placing it around her neck. It was a little long but I was confident she'd grow into it.

“It looks good on you,” I told her, blinking away tears.

“Why is it a rainbow?” She asked, tracing the outline of the star before quickly adding, “Not that I'm complaining! It’s really pretty and I really like it, it's just, yours just has the one red gem. Why is mine different?”

“I wanted yours to have special powers,” I explained. “So I made it with–”

“You _made_ it? With magic?”

“Mostly with a mold and a crucible, but I used magic too, yeah.” I shrugged one shoulder. “I made it with different colors because different gems amplify different types of magic. Here, for example, put your hand over the ruby, the one that looks like mine, and think about yelling for me. Don't say anything out loud, just think it.” Maggie screwed up her face in concentration and did exactly as I'd said. In response, my own pentacle started flashing bright red and it burned like a hot iron even through my still-damp t-shirt.

Maggie gasped, dropping the amulet in her surprise, and the light faded with it. “Woah. Did I just do magic?”

“Not quite. Your necklace is what's called an artifact, it’s a magic device that can do specific tasks, but it doesn’t require the user to have magic of their own.”

“What else does it do?” She started touching other gems, trying to make them work.

“Slow down there,” I said with a laugh. “Playing around with magic artifacts without knowing what they do is a good way to be turned into a toad. Or an amputee. I’ll show you how to use all the gems in the morning, out in the backyard where you won’t break anything.”

She frowned. “Can I do the thing again? Make your necklace glow?”

Before I could answer, she’d already tried and my pentacle started flashing again. “There’s your answer I guess.” I smiled. “You can do that whenever you need to. You just touch that gem, think about me, and I’ll come running, okay?”

“What if I’m really far away?” She asked, continuing to clutch the necklace. I pictured her face the first time I’d seen her, dirty and tear-stained. She’d been really far away before and we both knew it.

“Doesn’t matter. If you call for me like this, I’ll find you and be there as soon as I can, okay? Our necklaces are connected, so as long as you always wear yours I’ll always be able to find you anywhere in the world.”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before letting go of the pendant just enough to let the red strobe effect stop. Which was good, because my shirt was starting to smell like burnt fabric. “Does it work in reverse?”

“No, but I don’t really need to be able to send you an alarm, do I?” I ruffled her hair.

She shook her head impatiently. “No, I mean, will I always be able to find you, no matter where you are, as long as you have your necklace on?”

I thought about it. “Not without magic. Molly could or Uncle Thomas. If your magic comes in, I’ll show you how. But it's easier and safer if you just call for me and let me find you.”

“What if you can't find me though? What if something happens and you can't get to me?”

“Maggie, there is nothing that can stop me from getting to you if you need me,” I promised, ignoring the surge of Winter that rose up in me at the thought of someone trying to hurt my offspring, trying to keep me away, and what I would do to them.

Maggie stared at her feet. “But what if you go away again?” She sounded afraid to even ask as if by saying it out loud she'd make it true.

“Go away? Sweetie, I’m not…” _Go away again._ Like I had after the last time she’d needed saving. Tears stung my eyes and I tilted her chin up to look at me. “I’m not planning on going anywhere for a very, very long time. I will always be here for you, do you understand? I promise. ”

She nodded but didn't look like she believed me. Back on the couch, Molly cleared her throat. “Tell you what, Squirt. You ever use that amulet and your dad doesn't show up, you come get me and we'll find him together.” Maggie glanced uncertainly at her. “We found him last time, didn't we? Trust me. I'll make sure we never lose him again. He promised you, and your dad always keeps his promises. Right, Harry?”

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran through me. I wasn’t sure how exactly I could keep that promise or what Molly would be able to do about it when I couldn’t, but I couldn’t exactly unpromise something. Winter kept its promises. “Uh, right.” I swallowed. “Nothing to worry about, Maggie. I’m here for the long haul.”

“Come hell or high water,” Molly added with a smile. “We both are.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Alright, that’s enough seriousness for one night.” I wiped away tears on the back of my hand and picked up my little girl, returning us both to the couch next to Molly. “It’s almost Christmas. Why don’t we sing a Christmas carol or something?”

“But Miss Molly hasn’t opened her present yet!” Maggie protested. I was going to say that Miss Molly could wait until tomorrow since I was now not at all in a frame of mind to deal with it if she thought it was stupid or worse if she took offense. But she was already ripping off the paper before I could speak so I just sat there with my eyes closed, silently praying that it wasn’t too disappointing. “Oh! You got a necklace too!”

“Yeah Squirt, I sure did.” Molly breathed. I opened one eye. She held the necklace up so that it sparkled in the light and stared at it with what I can only describe as a wobbly expression, like her face wasn’t sure of exactly what it wanted to do. “It’s a snowflake…”

It was. Spun from white gold, detailed with white sapphires and opal so that it sparkled and shone like a prism, refracting light everywhere. I cleared my suddenly-too-dry throat. “Well, a pentacle didn’t seem appropriate given…everything.”

“Most guys would get their girlfriend something heart-shaped, y’know.” I was pretty sure she was teasing but she sounded more confused than anything else.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not with me because you wanted to date someone like most guys,” I replied with a lopsided smile. “I wanted to make you something that you could wear all the time. Anywhere. In front of anyone.”

Confusion turned into a soft smile in the blink of an eye. “Something I can wear to work.” She agreed, running her fingers over the delicately shaped design. “I’ll think of you every time the light hits it, and everyone will just assume it’s a shiny display of my allegiance. I might even get brownie points for wearing it. Clever.”

“If you press the opal in the center it opens,” I told her, quietly watching her face as she did. The locket, concealed behind the intricate pattern of the snowflake, sprung open. Her eyes shifted to just a slightly darker hue, the lines on her face growing less sharp as her cheeks rose with her upturned lips, pink and plump and begging to be kissed. They didn’t need to beg for long since she pressed them against mine as soon as she read the inscription. “'Love you always, heart, your idiot’, you big sap.”

“You like it?”

“It’s okay. Kinda like the person who made it. I think I’ll keep them both.”

“You guys are weird,” Maggie said, laughing but snuggling in against my side.

Molly produced a stack of Christmas books that I was certain hadn’t been in the house a week before and we read them together. They still had that new book smell, but she read them like she knew them by heart, with the perfect voices for every character. She’d probably read them to her younger siblings year after year. I thought of her argument with Alicia earlier with a pang of guilt. I hadn’t meant to cause all this anger and stress for everyone, especially not at this time of year. She should be at home right now, with Hope and Hank and the rest of her family.

“Your turn, Dad.” Maggie piped up, as they closed a copy of The Grinch. “Tell us a story!”

“Okay, which one is next?” I asked, reaching for the stack on the table.

“No, tell me a _real_ story. One about Santa. The real Santa.”

I thought about every encounter I had ever had with Kringle and drew a blank on any that were both worth telling and still appropriate for an 11-year-old child. “I don't really have any Santa stories, sweetie.”

“Come on. You said you met him!” She whined.

“I did. A couple of times. Briefly.”

“So tell me about that.” She insisted. “How did you meet Santa Claus?”

It was that moment that I realized, with horror, just what my future held. Surely some twist of fate should have intervened to stop the McCoy line from continuing on through none other than one Susan Rodriguez. In front of me, disguised as an adorable, dark-haired, wide-eyed angel, was a terror waiting to be set free. I'd heard that tone before, inquisitive and eagerly determined, willing to whine and beg and who knew what else to find out what she wanted to know. Put that together with my will and temper? May all the gods help us. What had we done? No sense trying to avoid it. She’d get the story if she wanted it. “Officially, the first time I met Kringle was two years ago, at a party.”

“A Christmas party?”

I sighed. “No. It was sort of my birthday party. But it was more of a…” _Thinly veiled excuse for Mab and Maeve to play games with each other. Way for Mab to show off her shiny new toy. Test, to see if I was the right man for a job I didn’t and still don’t want._ “Work thing.” Beside me, Molly snorted. “But it was boring. We just talked for a few minutes and then we went on our separate ways.”

“That _is_ boring.” Maggie agreed. “Come on. You must have at least one interesting story about him.”

“Not any that are Christmas-y. Oh, wait, okay, how about this? I’ll tell you the story of how Santa became Santa.” And so I did, just like Vadderung had told it to me, but with some additional history and embellishment. Molly and Maggie both listened with rapt attention. When I finished, Maggie’s eyes were wide.

“So, Santa is Odin?” She asked slowly.

“It’s more like Odin is Santa. And they’re really two different people who just share a body.” I tried to puzzle it out aloud for her. “It gets complicated. Yes and no, is the short answer.”

“So, if we want Santa to come visit, we should celebrate Yule instead of Christmas, right?” She looked back and forth between Molly and I. “Right?”

Thankfully Molly had an answer because while the kid had a point, I hadn’t considered it until she brought it up. “Some of our Christmas traditions already come from Yule. There were great feasts and lights to chase away the darkness and singing and decorating with pine boughs. Pretty much the only thing we’re missing is sacrificing animals, and uh, I think we can live without that tradition, don’t you?”

“When did you become an expert on Norse folklore?” I teased.

“You mean why do I know so much about traditions designed to appease the gods and goddesses of darkness, cold and death, that they might allow the gods and goddesses of the sun, warmth, and light to return to them, all centered around the time of the _winter_ solstice?” She arched an eyebrow. “You’re right. Why would I know anything about that?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“But is all of that enough?” Maggie interjected. “Do you think Santa will come?”

“I’m sure you’ll see Santa, midget,” Molly assured her. “Why don’t we set out milk and cookies? Santa loves milk and cookies.”

They did, and while they did I thought about the story I’d told and about why exactly Vadderung had told it to me. He hadn’t wanted sympathy, he’d seemed disappointed when I expressed it. He seemed regretful but not unhappy with his role. Was that his point, that sometimes we’re forced to wear a mantle we don’t want, but we have to make the best of the roles and responsibilities life throws at us? If so, I could tell him where to shove it. It was one thing to accept and be happy about being friggin' Santa Claus, but my mantle wanted me to be a beast, a murderous rapist with zero regard for life, including my own.

The girls came back out with their plate of cookies (one reindeer-shaped cookie had its head broken off ‘in sacrifice’ just to be safe) and sat it on a stool right by the fire. They settled back on the couch and read through more of Molly’s Christmas stories – Rudolph and Frosty and a few fairy tales that I’d never heard – until eventually Maggie’s eyes started growing heavy and she, unwillingly, succumbed to sleep. “I’ll carry her to bed.” I volunteered in a whisper.

Molly stroked her dark curls and smiled. “Nah, let her stay here. She’ll want to catch Santa in the act.”

“Maybe Santa should show up now, then? So that she can go to bed?” I suggested with a wry smile.

“Santa doesn’t show up until after midnight, silly. It’s not Christmas until midnight.”

“So we’re just going to sit here until midnight?”

“Did you have any better ideas?”

I glanced down at the little ball of Maggie curled up against me, nestled between Molly and me on the couch. She was like a glowing ember, warm and smiling in her sleep. My arm slid along the back of the couch, drawing Molly closer to us both. “No, you’re right. Nothing better than this.”

She kissed my cheek, then my lips. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Merry Christmas, Molls.”

It was a testament to how little I’d been sleeping while finishing up their gifts that I fell asleep sitting up on the couch well before midnight. I only realized I’d been asleep when I woke to the sound of… oh, what the hell? Sleighbells? I was instantly alert and bolted upright. Molly was still sound asleep on the opposite end of the couch and Maggie had shifted in her sleep to lay stretched out with her head on Molly and her feet in my lap. It was so adorable I almost forgot why I was panicked until Mouse made a low whine of uncertainty. I nodded my agreement at him and extricated myself from under Maggie as smoothly as I could. Just to confirm I wasn’t insane, the bells jingled again, the sound echoing down the chimney, of all places.

Kringle was nice enough. But just to be safe, I dashed out into the hall and grabbed my coat from the closet and my staff from the umbrella stand. I’d had plenty of nice people try to kill me, and I wasn’t eager to be caught with my pants down. I was gone for less than a minute, a handful of seconds really, and the entire time I was right outside of the living room door, well within earshot of anything that might be going on. So I was understandably surprised when I came back in, staff at the ready and aimed at the fireplace and found Maggie and Molly both standing there, staring up the chimney.

“Get back!” I shouted and in unison, they turned to look at me.

“Daddy! You missed him!” Maggie yelled, literally jumping up and down in excitement. “Santa came! And he gave me a picture, look!” Maggie held aloft a signed photo of none other than Kringle himself.

“Where were you?” Molly asked quietly. Tears rolled down a pale, stricken face and I was across the room and holding her within a heartbeat.

“I just went into the hallway for a second to grab my gear. What do you mean where was I?” Over her shoulder, I spotted the now-empty glass of milk and a plate with nothing but crumbs where there had been cookies.

“I don’t know how he got past our wards. But I woke up and he was right there, talking to Maggie like they were old friends.” She clutched me tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even hear him. I promised I’d keep her safe but I didn’t even feel him come in.”

“I don’t understand, I was only gone for a second. Are you both okay? Did he hurt you?”

Molly shook her head and her bright blue eyes shone as she gazed up at mine. “No, he…no. He told me…” She shook her head again. “No. He’s a good guy. He sat with Maggie and answered her questions, gave her his picture and…we talked. He told me…things I needed to hear. I think.” She took a deep breath. “I should be at St. Mary’s tonight.”

“Molls, it’s okay. Your family will understand. Your parents know–”

“Not for them. For me. It's. I’m. I want to be there. I want to be a part of the family. I think I need to.”

I thought about pointing out that it was a church and we still weren’t sure how she’d handle holy ground, or that her mother was still angry at her and her father and I weren’t speaking, or even that it was a bit silly for someone with at least demi-god levels of power to go to a house of worship to celebrate the birth of Christ. But I saw something in her crystalline eyes that I hadn’t really seen in a long time – hope. So instead I kissed her. “Okay. But we need to get going. It’s almost midnight and it’ll take us at least twenty minutes to get over there.”

“You don’t have to come.” She said, returning the kiss with a quick peck. “I mean, you can if you want to but, Maggie’s already in her PJs and I was going to take the Ways to get there in time. I don’t want to take Maggie into the Nevernever.”

“Then we’ll meet you there. We’ll quietly sneak in the back. Better late than never, right?”

“That could be our motto.” She said with a tinkling laugh that set my heart aflutter. We kissed again, deeper this time. “Alright, I’ll see you later.” And with that, she disappeared.

“Where’s Miss Molly going?” Maggie asked, fixing a brand new collar on Mouse. Apparently, Maggie wasn’t the only one who was really good this year. It was almost immediately eaten by his fur like every other collar we'd ever put on him, but where you could see it, it shone a brilliant silver. 

“She's going to church with her family. Do you want to stay here or would you like to go too?”

She frowned. “Well, it's cold outside and I don't really want to go out. But it would mean a lot to Mister and Missus Carpenter if we were there, wouldn't it?”

“Probably,” I agreed. “But I don’t care what they want. I care about what _you_ want to do.”

“Dad, it's Christmas. We're supposed to spread as much joy and cheer as possible, especially to our friends.” She paused. “They _are_ still our friends right?”

“Of course, kiddo,” I said, humbled and a bit embarrassed that she even had to ask. “Why don't you go get dressed, I'll warm up the car, and we'll meet Molly and the rest over there?” She nodded eagerly and scampered off to her room. I decided to quickly change into a button-down – Michael was already upset with me, I didn't need to embarrass him in front of the entire church – and went out to the car. I was fumbling to get the key into the lock when a soft noise behind me made me look up sharply. Something moved in the shadows at the edge of the house. “Hello?”

In general, things that lurked in the shadows were not the sort of creatures that usually responded kindly to greetings, but we lived in what amounted to a little patch of suburbia and I wasn’t eager to accidentally murder a neighbor or their pet to satisfy my paranoia. When there was no response, I shook my shield bracelet free of the sleeve of my coat and removed my blasting rod with my other hand, leaving my car keys dangling from the keyhole. I stalked across the yard, moving soundlessly across the snow to inspect the shadows. Nothing was there, and I saw no evidence that anything had previously been there. There were no footprints in the snow, or claw prints, or whatever. No residual energy to trace. I scanned the narrow bit of yard between our house and the fence, even inspecting the side of the building. If something had scrambled up there it had to be on the roof by now, which I couldn't see from the ground. 

As I craned my neck to try anyway, the distant echo of basso laughter drifted on the wind. “Kringle?” I called, following the sound toward the back yard. “Kringle, if that's you, you should know better. This whole thing is creepy and when I get creeped out I tend to burn first, ask questions later.” There was more laughter in response, solid this time, and I came around the corner with my blasting rod raised at approximately the level of Kringle’s head.

There was a single person standing huddled in the snow in my backyard, and it wasn't Kringle. She was a tall, lean woman, just a head shorter than me. She had a mass of long, dark hair that cascaded over both shoulders, almost to her hips. She was truly, breathtakingly beautiful, and the forlorn expression spread across her soft face and dark eyes only sharpened that beauty. There was a haunting quality about her, something ethereal and powerful, and I might have suspected that she was some kind of fae being if not for the way that she shivered with cold, her breath fogging in the air like pipe smoke. 

“Harry.” Her voice was rich and melodic, and tears sprung to my eyes the moment I heard it. “It's been a long time.”

“Whatever you are, whoever sent you, whatever game you’re playing, you made the wrong choice,” I told her, my voice as hard and flat as my expression. “Not this. Not her.”

“No games tonight, child. I swear on my power, I am exactly who I appear to be. No illusions, no tricks. Just me.”

“That's impossible.” I breathed. “You’re…”

“Dead?” She flashed me a sad smile then glanced over my head to the roof. I twisted to follow her gaze and found a full sleigh with, yes, eight fucking reindeer precariously perched on the steepled roof like it was a perfectly flat surface. Kringle waved from its seat with another hearty laugh “Let's call it a Christmas miracle.”

I reached out with trembling fingers and was still surprised when I collided with solid flesh, her arm warm beneath my touch. “Mom?”

“Yes, my love.” She confirmed and before I knew it, I had my arms wrapped around her and I was weeping like a child. Old habits told me I should be paranoid, I shouldn't trust her promise, I shouldn't trust that this wasn't some kind of trick. But I knew, _just knew_ , with every instinct in my body that this was real. Inexplicably, impossibly, the woman standing before me, rubbing my back soothingly and murmuring consolations to me was my mother. 

“How?” I asked when I finally composed myself enough to talk. “How are you here?”

“I can't stay long. Suffice it to say that Kringle has a lot more pull than either of us with the right people.” Margaret LeFay drew back slightly to look me over, never taking her hands off me. “Look at how grown up you are. I'm so proud of you, boy.”

“Yeah?” I rubbed sheepishly at the back of my neck. “That makes one of us, I guess. I think there must be a lot you don't know about me…”

“I'm sure that's true,” Mom agreed. “But I know enough. You're a good man, Harry Dresden, just like your father.”

“I wish he was here. That you both were. I thought it would get easier the older I got but,” I shook my head. “I just feel more lost every day, like I have no idea what I'm doing.”

She stroked my cheek. “We'll always be there for you. Here,” she tapped my forehead, “And here,” she tapped my chest. “You’re not lost, son. You’re just on a new path. Keep following your heart, it won't lead you astray.”

“What if it does? What if I mess everything up?”

“Then I'll have to disown you.” I gaped at her and she laughed. “Kidding. Then you'll be like everyone else in the world. We all make mistakes. God knows I have. Just keep doing the best you can. You have a good heart. You'll always end up doing the right thing.”

“That's what it says on my tombstone,” I admitted. She arched an eyebrow. “Hey, you’ve been dead for 40 years and you’re standing here talking to me. Don’t give me that look.” We both laughed, at the absurdity of the situation and life in general. I realized she was so cold she was shaking and started taking off my jacket to give it to her. “I’m sorry, I forget how cold it is. Here, take this. We can go inside and–”

“No, thank you. I can’t stay that long. And unless I’m mistaken, you need to be going as well. Aren’t you supposed to meet your young lady and her family?”

“Molly will understand,” I assured her. “I mean, I have so many questions for you. And Maggie. You have to at least come inside and meet Maggie.”

“Maggie?” She whispered, so quiet I almost missed it.

“Your granddaughter,” I told her, unable to stop myself from beaming. “Margaret Angelica. Maggie for short.”

“It’s a very good name.” She said, voice choked. “Maggie Dresden.”

“Her mom picked it but…yeah. It’s a really great name. It’s given her some pretty big shoes to fill, but,” I shrugged. “She’s got time to grow into ‘em. Come inside, just say hi for a minute.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, Harry. I’m sorry. My time’s up. I just needed to see you, to remind you that you'll never stop making us all proud.”

I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask, about her past, her plans, how she got here and where she was going, but in the end, I just said, “Don’t go. Please.” An orphan’s desperate plea.

“I have to, sweetheart.” She pulled my head down so that she could kiss my cheek. “Fear not, dear one. We’ll see each other again someday.”

“I love you.” It was all I could say.

“I love you too, Harry.” It was all I wanted to hear. “Take care of yourself and your family. And know that wherever you go in life, I'll always be with you. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, mom.” Without making noise or even a breeze, the sleigh landed beside us in the snow and Kringle held out his hand to help my mother into it. “Thank you,” I said to the jolly, fat man in the red coat.

“I only do what is in my nature.” He smiled. “I see you’ve decided to raise a proper child and teach your girl the old ways.”

“She asked for a story about Santa. I just told her the best one I know.”

“And what was the moral of the story you told?”

“I’ll tell you once I figure it out,” I told him, honestly. He let loose another boisterous laugh, his whole body shaking with it.

“I’m not the one you’ll need to tell, lad.” He looked to the sky as if reading a message in the stars (which were obscured by light pollution anyway,) and shook the reins. “The night wears on and I’ve got a lot of ground to cover. May you have a very Merry Christmas.”

“You too, Kringle.” I gave a short bow. “Safe travels. Goodbye, mom.”

“Until we meet again.” She said with a smile in her watery eyes. I blinked and they were gone.

When I came around the house, I found Maggie and Mouse already in the car with the engine running. “Hurry up. We’re going to be late!” She admonished as I buckled myself in.

“We’re already late.” I pointed out. “A few extra minutes isn’t going to make a difference.”

As it turned out, the roads were clear and we made it over to St. Mary’s in record time, pulling into the parking lot around 12:15. Maggie had already put Mouse’s service dog vest on him so the three of us slipped in as quickly and quietly as we could. It had been a while since I’d been to a service (or to St. Mary’s at all, now that I thought about it) but Maggie led the way confidently to the Carpenters’ pew. Molly took my hand as soon as I scooted in next to her. She’d changed (or more likely glamoured) into a green sweater dress that cut just low enough to show off the snowflake I’d given her. Thick red tights complimented it, making her look like Santa’s helper.

The service was long, but the church, beautiful under normal circumstances, was exceptional in its Christmas finery so I couldn’t complain too much. Just as Alicia had promised, the full Carpenter brood was in attendance. I got a few sideways glares from Daniel throughout the service. He hadn’t made it to Thanksgiving but it looked like someone had filled him in and I was guessing we’d have strong words about my “intentions” at the first opportunity. Alicia sat on Molly’s other side, and I noticed she was holding her sister’s hand as well. If Molly was uncomfortable, she was doing a good job of hiding it. I’d known sidhe were able to walk on holy ground if they were powerful enough, but I also knew they didn’t care to do it. I’d always assumed it was like the Black Court, that the touch of faith burned them. I hoped against hope that she hadn’t put in those godforsaken piercings again.

I made it through without falling asleep or making a single snarky comment, which is good for someone like me. “You almost made it on time.” Molly murmured, turning to kiss me once the service was over.

“We would have been on time if _someone_ hadn't been playing around in the backyard,” Maggie interjected.

I stuck my tongue out at her. “Snitch.”

“What were you doing in the back yard at midnight?” Molly asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“It's been a weird night. I'll tell you later.” I promised, then lowering my voice to barely a whisper I added, “How did everything go here?”

“It’s been a weird night. I’ll tell you later.” She retorted. We lingered as the rest of the throngs of people filtered out into the cold winter night. I could hear Michael’s voice at the far end of the aisle, greeting friends and associates as they passed. Maggie had absconded with Hank and Hope almost immediately to show off Mouse’s new collar and her new necklace. I clamped my hand tight over my own and shot her a hard look when she decided she needed to demonstrate what it could do. She didn’t even have the good grace to look guilty, she just grinned. Cheeky kid. Wonder where she could have learned that?

“Thank you for coming, both of you.” Charity said quietly, nearly startling me out of my skin. I turned to greet her and was immediately pulled into a hug. I glanced at Molly who just smiled and mouthed ‘weird night’ at me. “It’s good to see you.”

“Is it?” I asked, shamefaced. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Charity chided. “I’d never pass up an opportunity to drag a heathen like you to church.” I let out an unexpected bark of laughter, a tension I didn’t realize I was holding uncoiling. “Plus, what better way to start Christmas than to have the whole family together?”

I swallowed past a lump in my throat. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” As I spoke, I saw Michael notice me and resisted the urge to duck and pretend I wasn’t there. He shook the hand of the man he was speaking with, quickly wrapping up his conversation and turning our way. The smile faded from his face, his expression grave as he made his way down the pew. Molly nudged me gently with her elbow and I realized I was subtly gearing up for a fight – fists clenched, shoulders back, feet planted but ready to move as needed. I took a deep breath and let it out, letting my gathered energy (magical and otherwise) go with it. Michael = friend. We don’t punch our friends, Harry. Get it together.

“Michael.” I nodded at him as he slipped one arm around Charity’s shoulders.

“Harry.” I’ve faced big baddies that didn’t say my name with as little enthusiasm as he did. Suddenly I wished there were punches because getting my ass kicked wouldn’t have hurt as much as that blow. “I hope you’re well.”

“Can’t complain. I hope the same for you and yours.”

“The Lord provides as always.” He solemnly confirmed. We stared at each other grimly until I started to hear the theme from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly playing in my head. Oo-ay-oo-ay-oooo. Wah. Wah. Wah. It felt like it would come down to which one of us was quickest on the draw. Until Charity elbowed her husband hard enough in the side that he almost stumbled, leaning hard on his cane.

“Michael Joseph Patrick Carpenter!” She laid into him. “We are in the house of the Lord. It is Christmas. Tell Harry you’re sorry and stop acting like a child.”

I’d seen a lot of things in Michael’s kind, strong face but this was the first time I’d ever seen him look truly chastened. He sighed. “I _am_ sorry, Harry. For the other day. I was speaking in anger, and I let it cloud my judgment.”

“Well said.” Molly murmured. I kicked her foot discreetly.

“If anyone should apologize it should be me. You were only trying to help and I…we both said things we regret. Let’s leave it at that and move on, huh?” I held out my hand and he clasped it at the forearm, shaking once then pulling me into an awkward hug.

“There. That didn’t kill either of you, did it?” Charity looked back and forth between the two of us. “I imagine you both could survive the blow to your pride?”

Michael cleared his throat and I mumbled incoherently. Molly slapped us both on the back, hard enough to knock the wind out of me. “Merry Christmas!” The sentiments were echoed by everyone in earshot, including Michael and myself, and the world felt a little bit brighter. We made small talk for a few minutes, then went our separate ways with an agreement that we’d meet up for brunch at the Carpenters so the kids could open presents together. In the car on the way home, Molly led the rest of our motley crew in Christmas carols, and I even found myself joining.

I thought for sure Maggie wouldn’t sleep from all the excitement, but as soon as we got in the door she kicked off her boots, stripped out of her coat and scarf, threw her mittens on the floor, and declared that it was ‘so bedtime.’ I was hard-pressed to argue, especially when Molly caught me by my collar on the way up the stairs and nodded to the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. Who am I to argue with Christmas tradition? We got lost in a kiss so deep it was hard to tell where I stopped and she began, and it left me feeling warm and perfectly, truly happy from my head to my toes. I fell asleep with Molly nestled up tight against me as I had so many nights before and felt like maybe my life was finally on track for the first time in a lifetime.


	7. Chapter 7

I was both disturbed and glad to find the Leanansidhe’s cottage on the other side of the Nevernever from our backyard. It was creepy to think that she was still keeping tabs on me, but since I’d come into the Nevernever specifically to see her it was convenient. Equally convenient was the fact that her terrifying centipede guardian(s?) didn't show up to harass me on my way to the door. Less convenient was the way she appeared behind me suddenly as I raised my hand to knock on said door, causing me to yelp in surprise. “Good morning godson.” Lea murmured. “I’m surprised. I thought you would surely come visit me before now.”

“I’ve been occupied.”

“Ah yes. And how has your foray into child-rearing gone thus far? Relax,” She added as I glanced nervously around. “None would dare trespass on my territory, nor are they likely to eavesdrop. Not that it will be any great secret for long if you intend to continue to raise her out of the domicile you share with Lady Winter herself.”

“I didn't come here for parenting advice, Lea.” I hissed.

“Of course. How silly of me. You're here to discuss an old friend.” She clapped her hands once, all business. “Perhaps we should go inside. You can ask your questions over a cup of tea.”

“…Inside your house?” I couldn't keep the surprise off of my face.

“Forgive my manners. Would you be more comfortable if we stepped over to Arctis Tor? It's a quick trip.”

“Uh. No, I can't think of anywhere I’d be less comfortable than Arctis Tor.”

She pursed her lips and those slit-pupil eyes of hers were suddenly so intense I couldn't even look in their general vicinity. “Are you sure? Think carefully, my godson. Do you wish to have this discussion in your quarters instead? I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable for so important a conversation.”

“That's… strangely considerate for you, godmother.” I remarked. “But I would rather have a private conversation and I suspect that's not possible within the castle walls.”

Lea inclined her head slightly. “As you wish. Then please, come inside.”

The door opened into a small, rustic kitchen complete with a dining table and two chairs. The floors were hardwood, the walls exposed stone, and the windows had curtains with a floral pattern on them. Every surface from floor to ceiling was meticulously clean. The only thing that looked out of place from a modern farm kitchen was the latticework for drying herbs and flowers hanging suspended from the ceiling on the far end of the room. The place smelled of sage and lavender. “Is this a glamor?” I asked, closing the door behind me.

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment since we’ve been getting along so well of late. No, this is just my humble home.” Her round lips curled into a devilish smile. “Is it not what you expected, child?”

“I’m sorry,” I responded quickly, not eager to give offense. “It’s a lovely home. I just never gave much thought to what your,” _lair_ , I thought. “Kitchen would look like. It’s… comfortable. Warm.”

“And you do not think of me as a creature of warmth or comfort.” She mused. “I understand. You’re not the first person to react thusly. I am what I am by nature, what my Queen requires of me, but I have my own indulgences in my own time. Tea?” When I hesitated, she laughed. “Just tea. On my honor, I mean you no harm from it.” Lea didn't wait for my answer, instead pouring two cups of water from a copper kettle and dropping a fragrant sachet of dried leaves and who knows what else into each.

“Thank you.” I took one of the mugs in my hands, more for something to occupy them than out of any real desire to drink what I was still worried might be a steaming cup of poison. There were a lot of things she could do to me that she wouldn’t see as harm but I still wouldn’t want. “So, the other day you said you’d be willing to talk about my mother. What will this information cost me?”

Lea sipped her tea with a smug expression. “What are you prepared to offer?”

I spread my hands open on the table. “Honestly? Not much. Even if I wanted to, I hardly have anything left that I can freely and safely give.”

“Nothing is free, godson, especially knowledge. You should know that by now.” She drummed her fingers against the side of her teacup. “Your daughter is growing. She will come into her powers soon. Perhaps she should spend some time with her great-godmother.”

“Over my dead body,” I growled

“If you insist. It was an exceptionally strong motivational tool when training Lady Molly for her position. Though I must warn you that I do not think the Queen would be able or willing to retrieve you from the spirit realm a second time.”

I stood, fully intent on lunging across the table and strangling her with my bare hands but my better sense kicked in at the last minute and I forced myself back down. No good would come of letting her goad me into attacking her. “Maggie is off limits to you. Now and always. She is my responsibility and I won’t let you toy with her the way you did Molly and I. If I ever even suspect that you have harmed a hair on my daughter’s head, Mab herself won’t be able to save you from the pain I will visit upon you. Do you understand?”

I knew from experience that the expression on my face, the sincerity in my voice, the way my teeth gnashed with every word was unsettling. I’d seen enough people blanch or turn and run when I reached this level of fury to know the effect it had. The Leanansidhe, however, was not so easily cowed. Her eyes sparkled dangerously and her words were a seductive purr. “It would be almost worth the trouble, just to see what you'd do. Is it your mantle’s influence encouraging you to embrace Winter so, I wonder, or your Lady’s? No matter. Very well, give me your questions and I will give you my answers as best I can.”

“At what price?”

“None to you. Our Lady made it clear in our prior meeting that she expected this discussion to take place. I live to serve my Queen.”

“I see.” She sounded genuine but I knew better than to trust anything the Leanansidhe said. “Then it's Molly that will be paying the price for my knowledge?”

Lea frowned. For the first time in our history, she looked like she might actually be considering her words carefully like she wasn’t sure how to respond. “If you find the answers to the questions you truly seek, yes, I believe Lady Molly will bear the price of that knowledge. But I will not be the one to reconcile the bill. As much as it pains me to make this admission, I have incurred debts of my own which this would settle. Ask your questions, child.”

I nodded, considering her words. I didn’t want Molly to have to pay or owe anything for me, but she clearly wanted me to solve this mystery as much as I did. She’d led me straight to Lea. I had to trust that she knew what she was doing. “The murders at Halloween, the ones Molly was involved in, are you familiar with them?”

“I don’t think there are any in Faerie who are not. Rumor travels fast and the deaths were, as you know, particularly gruesome. A slit throat is one thing but once the Bane is involved we all take notice.”

“All of the victims knew my mother. Is that true?”

“There are few of us who are not acquainted with your mother. She was not given the appellation LeFay unduly.”

“That was not an answer to the question I asked,” I replied, patiently. I was used to this game by now and expected to have to play. “There are two people the victims had in common. One is Baron Marcone. I'm told the other is Margaret LeFay. Can you confirm that?”

“All of the ‘victims’,” she hesitated over the word as if it wasn't the one she would have chosen. “Knew Margaret at one point in their lives, yes.”

“So, what’s the connection? Marcone obviously didn’t know my mother. And the Queen has kept Molly from talking about it with me, which makes me think it has to involve me in some way. Since I didn’t know any of the victims before they died, I’m thinking, it’s gotta be Mom. But I can’t see how.”

“Perhaps the Queen has forbidden us from speaking of it because it doesn’t concern you and she didn't want you involved. You've made your distaste for our method of justice very clear in the past.” She took another sip of tea and watched me.

“That could have been the reason.” I agreed, staring down at my own mug. “But I don't think it is. Do you?”

“I know precisely why Lady Molly both cannot and will not tell you more about the deaths you're investigating. I heard the orders from the Queen’s lips myself.”

“And?”

“And the orders were given to all present, not just the Lady so I'm similarly restricted.” Her expression remained friendly and placid even as I started swearing. “As I said, gruesome death is a dreary subject. Surely you’d rather discuss Margaret herself? Her connection to the traitors executed in October can't be the only bit of information you're eager to know.”

Of course it wasn't. After our brief encounter at Christmas, I had more questions than ever. I noted her use of the phrase ‘traitors executed’ which confirmed my suspicions that it had been done to make an example of the victims. I could try to press it. I didn't have the same concerns for Lea’s physical or mental comfort as I did for Molly, and I wouldn't feel too guilty about forcing her to give up information that she didn't want to give. But I was sitting in her kitchen, on her side of the magical tracks, and if I insulted her I was reasonably sure she'd make me regret it. Plus, she’d never volunteered information on my mom before. I had to assume she had a reason for it now. “Yeah, okay. Uh, where to start. I guess, how did you two meet?”

“The same way I meet most mortals. She summoned me. She was a young thing then, younger than you are now, and she had the look like she hadn’t quite grown into her skin yet. She had drawn her circle carefully, and stood perfectly centered in it wearing nothing but a reckless sort of smile.” Lea’s own smile was softer than I'd ever seen it. “I'd seen a lot of things from mortals – fear, awe, trepidation, lust – but little Maggie McCoy stood on a hilltop in the middle of the night, naked as the day she was born and the only thing I saw in her countenance was exhilaration. I was intrigued but there are rituals to observe and expectations to meet so I asked her why she had summoned me. Do you know what her answer was?”

“I would guess she needed a favor. Isn't that why we all summon you?” I shuddered to think of the first time I'd summoned Lea and hoped my mother had made better choices. 

“Yes, that is why most humans summon me. But Margaret’s answer was that she just wanted to see if she could. Can you imagine? She summoned _me_ because she’d read about me in a book and she wanted to see if the summons would work.” Lea laughed. “I was fully intent on slaughtering her for her insolence but she’d done her research. Margaret had written a poem dedicated to me. Her poetry skills were atrocious but the attempt was endearing. We ended up talking for half the evening. I found that she was skilled at conversing with the fey. No matter how I tried, I didn't manage to ensnare her or mislead her. It was refreshing.”

“Wow. Guess I must have been a huge disappointment, after her.” I’d meant it as a joke. Well, mostly a joke. But I got the distinct impression that when she laughed again she was laughing at me, not with me.

“A disappointment? No. You both have provided me with excellent entertainment, albeit from different sources.” I almost flinched when her hand touched my own. It was unexpectedly tender. “You look just like her, you know, when you’re channeling your magic especially. There's this light that comes into your eyes, that same exhilaration even when you're frightened, even when you're backed into a corner.” A pained expression crossed her face. “And Danu knows you both have the same reaction to that: pig-headed obstinacy and a sharp tongue even when you'd be better served by silence.”

I knew it was intended as an insult, but it warmed the cockles of my heart to know my ‘pig-headed obstinacy’ was inherited. “It’s worked out pretty well for me so far.”

“Hah! About as well as it’s worked out for your mother.” She leaned in close and her smile displayed too many teeth. “Has it worked out, or have you survived through a combination of luck and the protection of others despite your knack for stubborn foolishness?”

She was right, of course. But I wasn’t about to tell her that, so I intentionally avoided the point. “So you're saying that's what killed my mother, stubborn foolishness?”

Lea continued her pantomime of a smile for a moment before settling back in her chair. “As surely as it killed you, yes.”

I shifted uncomfortably. I was starting to think that maybe it was a kindness that fairies never told the whole honest truth. It seemed like every time they did it was more truth than I wanted to hear. “Alright. You obviously had more interactions with her than that first time. How did a mortal wizard come to be friends with the Leanansidhe?”

“Friends. I'm not sure Margaret would use that word.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “If I didn't know better, I would have sworn she was born a changeling. Mortals so rarely enjoy the finer points of bargains and deals. She found herself in trouble from time to time, and as you have, she sought out powerful allies, incurred debts and collected them just the same. Like any good sidhe, she was sure to honor the letter of any deal. The game we play is so rarely challenging, a competent opponent is intriguing.”

“The kids call that being ‘frenemies’, I think.” I supplied

“Yes, I believe our Lady has used that word before to describe our relationship.” I thought about asking if ‘our’ meant her and Molly or her and I but decided there was no answer to that question that would be comforting and let it go. “Margaret ingratiated herself to both Courts but she was always better suited toward Winter. There was a time when I thought I might have to call her Queen one day.”

I could only huff in acknowledgment of that statement while I digested it. “That would have made for an awkward knighting ceremony.”

Lea’s smile faded in an instant. “Margaret never would have allowed you to become the Knight if she’d been there to stop it. If I could have I–” She closed her lips tightly, like she might have to physically restrain the words from coming out and her eyes flashed with a cold fury, so quickly I could have blinked and missed it, before returning to normal. “There is much I would do differently if I could. But at the end of the day, we are who we are and the past is the past.”

“We can’t change the past, but we can change our future,” I said quietly, trying to read her face behind the mask of the glamor she wore. After so much time with Molly, I was getting better at picking apart illusory magic, but Lea had been practicing for centuries before I was even born and I got nothing. “We can always become more than we are. More than we were.”

“Such a mortal thing to say.” Her smile was back and bolted into place, her voice the carefree, sensual lilt she typically used, but her eyes showed every year of her age and the weight and knowledge they brought with them. “That is another thing you and your mother have in common. I will tell you what I’ve told her, time and again. In your world, there are laws because you and the rest of the humans agree to abide by them. Those established by the constabulary, societal customs, religions, your White Council, tens of hundreds of thousands of other standards that you accept and choose to follow. They function because those who disobey are punished or ostracized, but they only exist because the group decided they exist. If you don’t like a law, you’re free to break it, whatever the consequences,”

She stood suddenly, and snatched my still-full mug from my startled hands, taking both cups to the small basin that served as her sink. “We, Lady Molly and I and Queen Mab herself, we do not live in your world. We are like children, dirty and impoverished, our pasty faces pressed against the glass window of a sweet shop where we desperately wish to sample the wares, knowing full well that we can never and will never do so. Of course we are adept at twisting our words, bending the rules, interpreting every single syllable to our pleasure. It is the only way to survive in a world where your own body will not allow you to break a law, no matter how desperately you try.

“Heed my words, child, if you truly care for your sweet lover. You ask much of her, whether you intend to or not. I cannot know myself, but would it not be harder to stand in the cold, longing for sweets when once you tasted them with wanton abandon? Worse yet, to have another child drag you by the hand, pull you into the shop, filling your lungs with the scent of toffees and chocolates, the memory of the old familiar taste haunting your tongue, your mouth salivating with a hunger that will never truly be satisfied again while he gorges himself to bursting?” She turned to look at me and her eyes glowed a brilliant green, her hair like spun rubies sparkling in the sunlight (though she was not in the path of the muted light coming in through the windows.) The air was filled with the smell of rain on crumbling leaves and late-blooming flowers, and her words carried the all-too-familiar distant braying of hounds when she said, “We live to serve, Harry.”

Just as suddenly as it had come the moment passed and with a sigh of breath, she fixed her glamor back into place. My mouth worked wordlessly for a bit, trying to form a coherent response. I finally settled on, “I’m sorry.”

“La. You are not to blame for the very nature of Faerie, Godson.” She shifted so easily into the old Lea that I knew and… well, knew and tolerated at least, that I almost thought I’d imagined her outburst. “You are ever your mother’s child. Since you came to talk of her its an appropriate lesson, as this is a conversation I have had with Margaret many times.”

I thought about that for a minute. “And tell me, in all of the times that you had this conversation with her, did you ever manage to convince her that it wasn’t possible to change it? To change Winter Law?”

I watched those perfectly plump crimson lips work to contain her genuine smile under the mask. “Why would she think it _is_ possible?”

I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. “Because the more you talk, the more I think you’re right. I am nothing if not my mother’s son.” I rose to my feet, eagerly crossing the distance between us in two long strides. “You see, I’m happy we could have this talk about her. Honestly, you gave me way more info than I expected and I appreciate it. But that may have been a cover for another conversation I wanted to have with you.”

“I see.” She purred, knowingly. “You’ve come to make a deal after all.”

“You bet your ass I have, sweet cheeks.” I beamed. “Here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to agree not to speak, write, type or otherwise communicate a single word of what I’m about to tell you to anyone, except as necessary to assist me. In exchange, I will give you the details of my admittedly insane scheme. If once you’ve heard it, you like it then you’ll name a reasonable price for your assistance. Provided I agree it is reasonable, and it does not involve Maggie, Molly or Thomas, our deal will be settled. Capiche?”

“I love a man who takes control. It’s so much more fun to break them.” She laughed softly to herself. “Very well. You’ve piqued my interest. I agree to your terms. How can I be of assistance?”

“I’ve got a plan, and I can’t do it without you.” I took her hand in mine, brought her knuckles to my lips and planted a gentle kiss, sealing our bargain. She gave a slight nod of approval. “Leanansidhe, I find myself in desperate need of a muse.”

The snow on the ground cushioned my fall, at least enough to prevent any lasting injury, but it still knocked the wind out of me. I lifted one hand to give a thumbs-up before Maggie could ask. “Good job, kiddo.” I croaked, climbing to my feet. The good news was that the concussive blast I'd built into her amulet functioned, mechanically, as intended. The bad news is that it was much stronger than I'd expected it to be. “Be very careful who or what you use that on, okay? Serious bad guys only. If you try to use that against a regular human, you could really hurt them.”

“Only in emergencies, only for major villains. Got it!” She nodded her head solemnly. My stomach squirmed. I didn't like this. I didn't like having to teach my daughter how to use a protective talisman. I didn't like that she didn't question it when I said things like ‘not for humans, only serious bad guys.’ But at least she’d showed good sense in when and how to use it so far.

“Good, let's try it again. Mouse, your turn buddy.” He gave me a look that clearly said ‘wuss’ but got into position. “Maggie, Mouse is going to come at you like a real villain would. I want you to use any of your powers you think you need to stop him. Ready?”

“Ready!” She echoed, planting her feet. On my signal, Mouse charged her like he meant to barrel her down. I expected her to go for the concussive force almost immediately, but instead, she stood watching him, waiting for him to come, and at the last minute as he pounced she triggered her shield. Blue light sprung up where Mouse hit the invisible force field and bounced off. She dropped the shield as quickly as she'd called it and used the blast when he was at the apex of his bounce, adding his own momentum to the spell so that he ended up almost in the next yard over. When I turned back she was gone. I scanned the back yard but saw no sign of her, even looking for the compulsion spell I was guessing she'd used. I could open my Sight and find her easily but for now, I was content to let her play this out. Maybe thirty seconds went by before my pentacle started flashing. I didn't have to follow the distress signal too far – when I turned around Maggie was standing right behind me, grinning like a tiny madwoman. I hadn't heard or sensed her in any way.

“Did I do it right?” She asked as Mouse loped back over to us. 

“That was perfect, princess.” I offered her my fist and she rapped her knuckles against mine. “Very clever thinking to use your shield like that. Just be careful, because some enemies move much faster than Mouse. For quick enemies, you’re better off blasting them first and then using the shield to guard you as you run away.”

“Got it.” She nodded. And she probably did. The more time I spent with Maggie the more I realized, that kid was scary smart. I mean, it’s not like I thought she’d be an idiot. I don't always think before I do, and even when I do I sometimes do or say less than brilliant things, but it's not for lack of intelligence. And Susan, well, except for her poor taste in men she was brilliant. So yeah, our kid wasn’t going to want for IQ points. But I wasn’t prepared for how quickly she picked things up and how damn clever she was. I hadn't taught her to use her shield like that. I hadn't taught her that using a concussive blast on an enemy when they're in the air can help you use their own momentum against them. I would have, eventually, but this was a 101 sort of lesson. I’d never had an apprentice or trainee, even my junior Wardens, that would have thought to do that when they were first starting out.

“Alright, let's go wash up for dinner and maybe after we’ll go downstairs and we’ll study more while we wait for Molly, okay?” She nodded and we did exactly that.

She didn’t like studying as much as doing, which, I couldn’t blame her. But I’d explained that studying things now made doing things easier later on. We’d started with the basic ‘bad guys’ you might encounter and how to defend yourself from each (which, in some cases, was just run away and call for backup.) After a few days of pleading, I also started teaching her the basics of magic. She hadn’t shown any talent for it yet, but I taught her the theory. Of course it wouldn’t do without practical demonstrations as well. She liked that best of all.

We finished our dinner and another round of lessons. Since it was New Year’s Eve, a time for celebration and feasting, it seemed like an appropriate time to go over the rites of hospitality and the roles of a good host and guest. We were midway through our lesson when Molly returned, by way of the front door for once, with a bottle of sparkling grape juice in one hand and champagne in the other. She found us in the living room, seated around the coffee table with Mouse, Bonnie, and several stuffed animals. Apparently, she found my teaching methods amusing since she kept snickering as she watched us from the couch. Look, in my experience, tea and finger snacks are a very traditional offering for these sorts of things. And costumes, like the sunbonnet (complete with ribbon) my daughter had placed on my head or the beaded necklace draped around our dog’s neck, help to add a sense of realism to the event, which can really drive the lesson home and make it stick. It was most assuredly not, as Molly would later declare, a tea party.

Eventually we persuaded her to join us on the floor, and we cracked open the bottle of grape juice, taking dainty sips out of the tiny teacups. The lesson started to dissolve at that point when Molly started doing voices for the stuffed animals, several of whom worried about ‘that big guy in the Easter hat’ and whether he was ‘touched in the head’.” Maggie came quickly to my defense but Bonnie agreed with Molly and the judgmental menagerie. I told them they were just jealous of my fashion sense.

And that was how we rang in the New Year, our happy little family joking and laughing, talking about our days and our plans for the coming year. Maggie was surprised when we let her stay up til midnight, but it seemed important this year of all years. I couldn’t explain it exactly but I felt like… like I was standing on a precipice, at the center of the great dividing line of my life, and I was ready to jump, to leave the pain and the darkness of the past behind and plunge headlong into this new unknown with those I loved most beside me.

The very instant the second hand ticked over to midnight, Molly’s lips were on mine, her hand on the back of my neck, and she kissed me with such fervor she knocked my hat off. “Children watching,” I whispered against her lips when her tongue darted out, seeking my own.

“We don’t mind!” Bonnie piped up. “We’re very much in support of this!” Mouse held one paw over Maggie’s eyes while she giggled and batted at it.

“Okay, fine. But they say your first kiss of the new year sets the tone for your relationship. I wasn’t taking any chances.” Molly protested, a brilliant smile spread across her face. She leaned down and kissed Maggie, Mouse, and Bonnie (or the air immediately above Bonnie, I suppose) each on the head, then raised her teacup of grape juice. “Happy New Year!” Maggie and I echoed her toast and drained all three ounces of our cups. Fireworks weren't allowed within city limits, of course, but that problem was easily solved with a visit from the (heavily modified) one-woman rave. She left off the noise and managed some colors that no real firework had ever displayed, but otherwise, the illusion was indistinguishable from the real thing. We stood in the backyard mesmerized until two small eyelids started getting heavy and we called it a night.

Once the girls were both tucked in (one in bed, the other in her skull) Molly and I retired to our room. She was very insistent in her superstition that whatever you did on New Year’s Day was representative of your year to come. I somehow doubted that we'd spend the rest of the year pouring champagne on each other so we could lick it off, but I was confident we'd repeat most if not all of the acts that followed. The sky was grey and lightening and the first few birds of the morning had started to sing when she finally decided that we’d firmly cemented our intentions for the year and we settled in to sleep. I kissed her lips, then her forehead as she nuzzled against my bare chest, secure in my arms and whispered, “I love you so much, Molly.”

She made a soft noise of contentment. “I love you too, Harry. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year.” I echoed. “May it be our best one yet.”


	8. Chapter 8

“On your right!” Molly called, and I whirled with a dagger in one hand, a conjured hailstone in the other. The dagger collided with flesh, and bit in deep, causing the monstrosity now in front of me to screech in pain. I continued slicing and hacking until I’d managed to sever three of the creature’s disfigured limbs, leaving it with only five left to pummel me. Behind me, Molly sharply exhaled and I turned without thinking. Her own assailant, more of a tentacle-y nature than my multi-limbed blob, had wrapped one of its barbs around her waist and held her suspended while it tried, with limited success it seemed, to crush her ribs in.

I would have intervened, but before I could do anything her already pale blue eyes went frosty – literally. A hailstorm that had not been there a moment before started raging, driving balls of ice at breakneck speeds toward the abomination she was fighting. With a cry of rage and anguish, the Winter Lady held aloft her hands and they were suddenly filled with shards of ice, each as thick around and as long as a man’s forearm and cruelly pointed. The creature tried to let her go, to defend itself, but she slammed both of her weapons down into what passed for its head until there was no more ice to shove.

My own attacker, jealous that he wasn’t getting any attention, clobbered me over the head hard enough to make me see spots. Molly and I, working in perfect concert, divested it of the rest of its limbs and, in the absence of a clear head to sever, just opted for my patented freeze-and-shatter technique. When it was over, I was breathing heavier than normal and we were both bruised and covered in blood and ichor (neither ours) but otherwise unharmed. I knelt down to wipe the ooze off my dagger in the snow. “Fucking Outsiders.”

“Mm.” Molly agreed, scanning our surroundings just to be sure there weren’t any other surprises. “Killing as many of those ugly fuckers as possible is definitely the best part of this job.”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but isn’t it sort of your job to keep them from getting through to begin with?”

She frowned, still doing a slow sweep of the distant horizon. “It’s my job to make sure we have people to send to the front lines. It’s more Mab’s job to actually defend the Gates. And besides, these aren’t big nasties like what’s trying to get through there. These are their pissant little foot soldiers, probably summoned by someone too stupid to know what they’re really doing.”

“Mm. They just accidentally happened to summon a group of Outsiders, coincidentally at the same time and place as the Winter Lady and Knight are sending fae offspring to fight at the Outer Gates?”

She glanced at me. “Yeah, smelled fishy to me too.” One gloved hand left streaks of dark blood, almost black, in her snow-white hair as it raked it back from her face. “Let’s get back to the cabin. We can shower and rest up before heading back to Arctis Tor. It’s been a long day and who knows what might be lurking between here and there.”

We were somewhere in the middle of a Mongolian mountain range and it was cold enough that even I could somewhat feel the chill. This was supposed to be a routine mission – show up, collect the “tribute”, report in and be home by supper time. But it turns out the clan which had previously resided just outside of a small human village nestled safe and snug in a cozy little valley had relocated, retreating further and further into the safety of the mountain itself. Apparently they'd had no end of troubles and harassment in the past few generations from an increased mortal population and from what sounded suspiciously like Fomor agents and had decided secluding themselves was the best option. Not a bad idea, all things considered, but it did mean that our quick trip became a day of searching unfamiliar and inhospitable terrain to find a whole group of fae that didn’t want to be found.

“I dunno. Maybe we should just head back. Maggie might get anxious if we’re gone too long.”

“Relax, I called over before we left the village. Murphy said she’d grab Maggie for the night. She’s in good hands.” Molly nodded in the direction we’d been heading when we’d been ambushed by outsiders. “Follow me.” I made a low growl as I automatically did as she’d commanded and she winced. “Oops. I meant, the cabin is this way, would you care to follow me to it?”

It didn’t matter. The command had already been given and I would have done it anyway, but it was still frustrating. I ground my teeth and followed sullenly, knowing I really had no one to blame but myself. We’d found out early on in our missions together that my deal with Mab had been a bit more explicit than I thought – I hadn’t just agreed to follow Molly’s command, I was obligated to do it. Express commands, orders, even wishes like ‘I would appreciate it if you…’ all had to be obeyed without fail, whether I wanted to or not. In her defense, she had been making serious efforts to be careful about it and it came in handy in combat when I didn’t even have to think about what she was ordering me to do, I just did it. But still…

I don’t know if the cabin was warm or if it just cut off the freezing wind enough to give the illusion of warmth, but either way, I was happy when we got inside and kindled a fire in the small fireplace. It was a tiny affair, basically just a bed, the fireplace, and a small bathroom, but it was enough for our needs. “Are you still sulking because I slipped up and ordered you to do something you were going to do anyway?” Molly asked as I pulled off my boots in silence. She’d already stripped out of her outer layers of clothing and armor.

“I don’t like being compelled. So sue me.” I grumbled. I threw my coat and snow pants over the back of the singular chair in the room.

She let out an explosive breath. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have agreed to the terms if I thought you’d actually browbeat me into coming along for stuff like this.”

I could hear her getting angry and knew by now that if I pressed the issue it would lead to a fight. “Isn’t the mission over anyway?” I whined. “Shouldn’t we be back to normal?”

“Not until we’ve reported back to Mab.” She was irritated and apologetic at the same time.

“Well, then get on the phone and call her. I’m not eager to see what the hell else you command me to do tonight.”

“Mmm. Aren't you though?” She purred, her fingers lightly dragging up my chest as she helped me out of my t-shirt.

“No.” I croaked out from a suddenly dry throat.

Molly pursed her lips. “Liar.” It wasn't said in anger, just observation and she let me go for a moment. “Fine, be that way. I'll check in with her.” Molly didn't bother with the telephone, she just sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. A couple of minutes passed and I didn't like the way her face cycled from neutral to cautious to irritated before finally settling on a concerned frown. “Mother's breath, Jesus Mary and Joseph, goddamn cunting hell!”

The bed squeaked and shifted as I settled down beside her. “Uh. Everything alright?”

“No.” She pulled one boot off and threw it across the room with enough force to dent the wall. “Damnit.”

“What's wrong?”

She laughed bitterly. “We are both cordially invited to attend a gala for the Feast of Imbolc.”

“The Feast of what?”

“Imbolc. It's a traditional Gaelic holiday, dedicated to the goddess Brigid.” She said this last with a sneer.

“I'm not really current on my Gaelic gods. Is there a reason we would be invited to celebrate her?”

Molly's other boot joined the first. “She's a goddamn spring goddess. Gone by a lot of names but most recently ‘Lady Sarissa’.”

“Oh.” Intellectually I knew of course that all of the Queens were goddesses, that they'd gone through various names throughout history. I mean, I’d seen the statues of Hecate in Hades’s vault and knew one of them bore my girlfriend’s exact likeness, but for some reason, I just never thought of it like that. Hearing Sarissa was worshipped by Gaelic cultures, likely some of my own ancestors given that my mother’s maiden name was “McCoy”, was startling. “I’m still not sure why _we’d_ be expected to attend though. If it’s a Spring celebration, wouldn’t that just be a Summer Court sort of thing?”

“No. The Queens always invite each other to their stupid festivals and celebrations. I think it's supposed to show our commitment to the Balance or something.” She groaned. “I _hate_ going to these things.”

“Do you get your own, you know, party or gala or whatever?” I couldn't stop myself from asking once the idea was in my head. What I'd really wanted to say was ‘how many other goddesses are _you_?’ but I wasn’t sure I could use the word ‘goddess’ out loud in conjunction with this woman who I’d known since she was just a child and who I’d seen the best and the worst of.

“Uh, kind of. They throw a harvest celebration every year but all of the harvest gods are men. No one’s really excited about the return of cold and darkness, and most cultures aren’t too keen on sacrifice anymore, animal or otherwise, which is pretty much how humanity traditionally worshipped the Winter deities, so,” she shrugged. “As usual, I get the short end of the stick. Not that I want to be worshipped anyway, of course.”

If she added the last a bit too hastily, I didn’t feel the need to point it out. “Okay, so, why invite me now? I’ve never been dragged to one of these before.”

“Well, you were still on Demonreach for last year’s Imbolc. Most of Summer’s other festivals are held in Titania’s Court so her majesty usually declines on your behalf to keep the peace between Summer and Winter. And I’ve been declining the Winter ones on your behalf to keep peace within Winter itself.”

“You kill a few people one time and suddenly they stop inviting you to parties.” I lamented.

“I’ve been more concerned about having to keep up the Winter Lady and Winter Knight act for an entire evening so that no one suspects we’re actually together.”

I grunted. “So, decline this invitation for me too and then we don’t have to worry about it.”

I could hear Molly’s teeth grinding as she set her jaw. “Her royal majesty has already accepted Lady Sarissa’s gracious invitation and committed us to attending.”

“Uh. Won’t the Summer Queen kind of, you know, kill me? Or at least try to?”

“She won’t be in attendance. Neither will ours. Thank god for small favors, I guess.”

“There’s nothing to worry about then.” I shrugged. “We can manage to keep our hands to ourselves for a few hours at a social gathering I’m sure.”

“No, you don’t get it. We have to be the Winter Lady and the Winter Knight. Everyone knows we’re fucking by now. If we keep our hands to ourselves, they’ll get suspicious. But we also can’t give the impression that there’s anything more between us than just pure animal lust.” She gave a frustrated growl. “This is going to suck so hard. I’ll have to play up the Winter Lady and you’re going to hate that, and no matter how angry or upset you get I’m not going to be able to stop because I have to be Queen. I don’t know how we’re going to be able to pull it off without getting into a fight with each other if not someone else and we can’t start a fight in the middle of Summer territory because it’s all the excuse the Summer Queen will need to murder you. Urrgh. What the hell is Mab thinking saying yes? This is such a terrible…what are you doing?”

I looked down at my hands (undoing the last few buttons on her shirt) and then back up at her. “I thought that would be obvious.”

“Are you listening to me?” She huffed, as I finished with the buttons and started pulling the shirt off of her. “We have a problem.”

“This gala, is it tonight?” I dropped her shirt onto the floor in front of us.

“No, it’s next weekend but we need to–”

“Then we have time to figure it out later.” My shirt followed hers. “Now lose the pants.”

“You are infuriating.” The smile playing at her lips said otherwise. “So what, I have to follow _your_ commands now that the mission’s over?”

Well, I hadn't meant it like that. I was just trying to distract her from spiraling further into the nest of crazy she was building for herself at the end of an already long and stressful day. But if the suitable distraction fits… “Did I stutter? Lose. Your. Pants.”

“What if I don't?” Her eyes glinted in the firelight, and I wasn’t entirely sure if it was Molly or the Lady asking.

Still, a distraction is a distraction. I let myself drop into the deeper, harder timbres I had used when I'd needed to put my foot down during her training. “I don't recall asking. Do it. _Now._ ” She bit her bottom lip (which was, thankfully, a very Molly gesture) and glanced sideways at me.

“Yes, Sir.” Molly laid back on the bed and shimmied out of her jeans. Well, a guy could get used to hearing her say that.

“I only mentioned your pants.” I pointed out when her hands dipped into the band of her panties. “Did I say anything about your undergarments?”

“No, sir. I was just trying to anticipate your wishes.” She sounded so perfectly subservient, almost afraid of what would happen if she had displeased me, but I’d been with her long enough to know better. I ran one hand along the curve of her body, lingering and possessive.

“If I wish you to do something, I will tell you,” I replied, as coolly as I could manage. I moved my hand steadily lower, brushing over her hip and the tops of her thighs with light fingers, sliding down to cup the already-damp heat of her, my thumb rubbing circles over her clitoris through the thin cotton fabric. I moved slowly, applying all of the patience I could muster to keep the game going. When I finally managed to draw a soft moan from her, I halted. “I didn’t say you could speak. You’ll be silent until I say otherwise.”

God help me, she chewed her bottom lip and shivered at my command, but nodded her head and I had to fight not to take her right then and there. I resumed the steady pressure with my thumb and watched her fighting to stay silent, her breathing quickening until it was a ragged pant. My eyes roamed over her, taking her in. I’d been trying to work up the nerve to do something like this for a while now. She’d made it clear throughout our relationship that while she was content with our usual romps, she really liked it when I took control. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy it. The problem was I worried I enjoyed it a little too much. I worried I would take it too far. But on that night, watching her squirm, silently begging for me, I realized – this was _Molly_. I wasn’t sure there _was_ such a thing as too far for her.

She made a few small noises here or there, but a stern look of disapproval was all it took for her to catch herself. I wanted her to make noise. I wanted her to fight my orders. There was exhilaration to be had in having her follow my every command, but if she never broke the rule, I’d never have a chance to punish her for it, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that that’s what we both wanted. Well then, I’d just have to make sure she wasn’t given a choice but to rebel. I’d barely even touched my tongue to her nipple when the first choked moan poured out of her throat.

I didn’t pause for a moment, just lifted my free hand and slapped her across her cheek. I regretted it immediately, especially when I looked up to find her eyes welling with tears, but she grinned cheekily at me and made a very intentional, deliberately obscene groan of pleasure and I smiled for half a second before falling back into character. “I’ll not warn you again,” I told her, low and gravelly. “If you can’t follow your orders and stay silent, I’ll have to find a way to silence you.”

“Mmmm. No, Master Dresden, please.” _Oof._ Her words and her plaintive tone shot through me like Viagra-laced lightning. I didn’t realize what I was doing myself until my belt was already off and folded in my hand, but even if I had I wouldn’t have stopped it from coming down across her thighs. The crack of the leather against her bare skin was almost as intoxicating as the throaty sob she made. I’d demanded silence and yet again she disobeyed, so I cracked the belt across her again. I lost myself in it, each time the sweet _thwack_ was followed by a helpless noise of pain and desire until my blood was singing through my veins.

She was begging, tiny pleas of need, but she never asked me to stop so I kept going until finally with a thick slap of leather a line of blood welled up along her reddened skin. Blood wasn’t a deterrent for me, and if anything it only seemed to spur Molly on since her small desperate noises were replaced by a strong, urgent cry of, “Harry!”

I slapped her again, hard this time. “Not only can you not hold your tongue as I asked, but you can’t even address me properly.” I sneered, not even recognizing my own voice for the cold anger in it. “You’re a disgrace.”

She whimpered like a frightened child. “Sorry, sir.” She reached out to me, but I stood up, just outside of her reach.

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” I shook my head sadly at her. “You leave me no choice. If you can’t follow commands, I’ll just have to make it so you can’t disobey. Give me your hands.” She presented them to me, wrists pressed together, anticipating my wishes. I bound them with the belt and then used her discarded shirt to bind her eyes as well. I could hear the pounding of her heartbeat as I finished getting undressed, smell the comingled aroma of fear and arousal, powerful as any aphrodisiac. I didn’t bother removing her underwear, just dragging them down enough to allow me access to her.

The moment I slipped inside her, I lost any semblance of control I’d previously had. With one hand I pinned her wrists to the headboard, and fucked her hard and rough, the cheap wooden frame slamming back against the wall with each thrust. She forgot herself, crying out my name again and I had no choice – one hand wrapped around her throat, constricting until she had to fight just to draw breath. If she’d been aroused before, it was nothing to what she was now, which is a good thing because at that moment I’m not sure I would have cared. I rutted against her, taking my pleasure as I wanted. The noises I was making weren’t even recognizable as human, just a series of growls and panting as I watched her face contort, trying to form words. “You are mine, Molly Carpenter, do you understand?” I heard myself snarl.

I had to relax my grip slightly so she could choke out, “Yes, sir.”

“If I give you a command, I expect you to follow it. Do you understand?”

Tension rode her, but it wasn’t from stress or fear. She was silently begging for release, her voice trembling and slurred when she replied. “Y-yes, ssssir. Aah.”

“Good,” I growled with a smile that she couldn’t see. I planted my lips over hers, a deep and lingering kiss. “Then cum for me. Right. Now!” I punctuated each sentence with a thrust, giving her everything I could. Her body arched up off the bed, meeting me, knees shaking at my sides and there was no doubt in my mind about whether or not she had at least followed this last command. I followed, spilling myself into her until my body felt empty with the release. It took me a few moments to recover, but as soon as I did and sanity came back to me, anxiety and doubt came back with it. I hastened to remove her bindings and couldn’t quite meet her eyes (watery and red) worried that I had gone too far, or done it wrong. It all sounded stupid now that I was playing it back in my head. “Was that…did you…did you enjoy yourself?” I asked quietly.

Molly put one hand on the back of my neck, pulling my face toward hers so that she could give me a sweet, sensual kiss. She didn’t stop until I finally looked her in the eyes, and once I did she just grinned against my lips and gave her answer. “Yes, sir.”

“You're sure this dress looks okay?” Molly asked, fussing in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom.

“I'm sure it looks just as jaw-droppingly amazing as it did the last five times you asked,” I replied, fidgeting with my cuff links.

“It's not too…risqué?” I cast another eye over her. Layers of sheer, gauzy blue and white fabric had been folded into a broad band which wrapped around the back of her neck, came criss-cross over her breasts and stretched down to her hips. The same fabric formed a transparent, ankle-length skirt and a strip of cream-colored satin that barely reached the tops of her thighs was all that kept her from displaying her full anatomy to the world. The dress served more to accentuate and display her nudity, (the bare planes of her stomach, the gentle slope of her naked back all the way down to her tailbone, her strong shapely legs, and supple thighs) rather than conceal it. But there was somehow an elegance to it, the way the fabric shimmered and shifted, that made her already-breathtaking figure into a work of art.

“The last party I attended in Faerie, the Winter Lady was wearing diamonds. _Just_ diamonds. I don’t think you could be too risqué if you tried.”

She looked at me with far too timid eyes for someone wearing her attire. “But do _you_ think it’s too much? I know the bar’s pretty low after Maeve but…” She hadn’t bothered with her glamour so even when the blush crept up her cheeks, they were the palest pink. “I don't want to look like a cheap stripper just because that's the expectation.”

“Of course not. You could never look cheap.” I dodged to the side to avoid the hurled tube of makeup that came flying towards my smirking face. “You look great, Molls. Maeve belonged in the centerfold of a porno mag. You belong on the walls of an art museum, right beside Venus and Aphrodite.”

“Mm.” She turned, checking out her ass over her shoulder in the mirror. “You’re _sure_ you’re okay with me wearing it? I mean, you’ll be okay with the reactions I get? With other people seeing me like this?”

“Of course,” I lied. I didn't know it was a lie at the time, but I had a hunch it would be. Still, she had chosen well. For this party, there could be no mistake about who and what she was. Spring may be on its way, but Molly was the reminder that Winter’s chill was not through yet, and that even in the heart of Summer they'd be waiting in the wings for their time to come again. She was an avatar of frost and snowfall and survival in the face of even the bitterest cold and blackest darkness and she looked every bit the part. Was I going to be okay with the fact that she would hold the gaze of every man in the room the moment she entered? No, probably not. Once she started playing Winter Lady, I'd have to fight for control over the Knight as it was. Adding jealousy? It wasn't going to be an easy night. But we didn't have a choice. “Stop worrying so much. You look great. We’ll do fine.”

“You're right,” Molly said, but I don't think either of us believed her. “It's just like high school parties. Make an appearance, stay the minimum amount of time required to not offend your host, then sneak back through your bedroom window before your parents notice.”

“…I think you and I had a very different high school experience.” I glanced at the wind-up clock on the bedside table. We were due to arrive in five minutes and she still didn't have shoes on so I stood up and came over to stand behind her, sliding my arms around her waist and kissing her neck. “If you stand here any longer, we're going to be noticeably late instead of fashionably.”

“We still have time. No one expects us to show up right on the dot. After Maeve, they'll just be excited that I showed up on the right day, in appropriate attire, and without sexually assaulting any of Sarissa’s subjects.”

“True.” I continued with open-mouthed kisses and glanced into the mirror to watch her fighting not to make a noise or let me know that I was getting a rise out of her. “But if you stand here in this dress for much longer, I'm going to tear it off you and ravish your naked body until we miss the gala entirely.”

“Mm. Now that's something they'd expect of the Winter Knight and Lady.” She purred, arching herself back against me. “But I think our boss might get mad.”

“Let her.” I slid my hands up over her bare stomach, cupping her breasts through the thin fabric of the dress. “She's just jealous I like you better.”

Molly swatted at my hands, and when that didn't deter me, forcibly removed them and placed them back around her waist. “Don’t you dare say that where she can hear you.” Together we stood, admiring our reflection, the way our bodies lined up perfectly, the way my dark hair and eyes seemed to make the pale white and blue of her own light up in comparison. Black suit, white shirt, a blue tie that was a perfect match for the color of her dress. I looked like I was going to a wedding. “We look good together. I've never, y’know, seen us together but, I like the way we look.”

I intended to make a disparaging remark about how _she_ looked good and I just looked like a great big idiot, but what came out was, “Yeah. Me too.”

“You know, now that I think about it, we don't need to be there _right_ on time.” Her left hand guided my own back up to her breast. “And I mean, they’ll expect us to have had sex before we get there because, well, Winter Lady and Winter Knight.” Her right hand slid mine down her body, under the band of her skirts and the thin piece of string and fabric she had called underwear until my fingers connected with the wet heat of her. “Wouldn’t you just hate to disappoint all those people, Harry?”

“Who cares about those people.” I murmured, tracing her nipple through the gauzy fabric while my right hand worked at the delicate pearl of pleasure between her thighs. “I would hate to disappoint you, my Lady.” Just the slightest emphasis on ‘my’.

Apparently I was doing something right because she rewarded me with a needy moan and pressed herself back against me at that. “If that’s so, my Knight, I suggest you take me right here and right now. Without,” she hastily added “ripping my dress.”

What followed was not pretty or romantic, but… Hells bells. I don’t have words. I hiked up her skirts and took her from behind, rough and urgent, all the while with my fingers still stroking her pleasure center, watching need and hunger and rapture contorting her face in the mirror. “Is this what you wanted, Lady Molly?” I asked aiming for the gravelly seductive voice I knew she liked, but it came out harsher, colder.

“Mm. You always know what I want, Sir Dresden.” Molly teased, breathless and panting. “You. Just like this. Taking me like – mmph – only you have, only you can.”

“I live to serve, my Lady.” She came with those words in her ears, a choked laugh in her throat. I was hesitant to make a mess that might require a wardrobe change and even more delay so as soon as she had taken her fill I pulled out. I was content to finish myself off but I should have known – the scales must always be balanced. She sank to her knees in a pool of whispering skirts and took me in her mouth without a moment’s delay. I had been close before she came and she was as gifted as ever, so she had me spilling down her throat in no time at all.

We were twenty minutes late to the gala by the time I straightened myself out and she reapplied her lipstick. The entire ride over was nothing but instructions on how to conduct myself, as if I had never attended a black-tie event before, or a supernatural gathering. “Molls, you remember that I was the one who taught you this stuff in the first place, right?”

“I know, sorry, it’s just.” She sighed. “There are so many ways this can go wrong and we need it to go right. Do _not_ let the Summer Knight provoke you. Don’t take it personally. Don’t take anything personally. Once we get out of this car, I’m Lady Molly of Winter. You’re Sir Dresden, Winter Knight. Think of it like undercover work if you have to. But we have to play our parts and play them well.”

“I get it,” I said, not bothering to hide my irritation at having to say it for the tenth time in as many minutes. “Would you just relax? I’ll behave.”

“Well, you still have to be the Winter Knight so–”

“So behave, but not too much. Yes. I know. I will be exactly enough of my usual charming self to offend without being enough of my usual charming self to start a fight.”

“Or a war.”

“One time. That happened one time. Nobody talks about all of the parties I’ve gone to that _didn’t_ end with a body count.” I grumbled but inside I wasn’t much less worried than her. I really did have a horrible track record when it came to social gatherings and while none of them had been instigated by me, trouble did have a way of finding me. And hadn’t it been a good long while since anything particularly nasty had reared it’s ugly head?

I was informed in no uncertain terms that I _would_ be giving my keys to the valet. I had been positive that I would not but Molly made it clear that I was mistaken. I asked her if she thought we'd both survive a car bomb and she declined a response. I handed over the keys. Consequently, the scowl on my face that said I resented having to be there as we entered the venue was mostly genuine. Molly's arm was linked with mine, her hand resting possessively on my bicep, making it clear that I was an accessory, like a purse or one of those little rat-dogs celebrities carry. Essentially, I was her property.

Now, Harry Dresden, live-in boyfriend wasn’t thrilled at being flaunted but I did derive a certain satisfaction from her staking her claim, declaring for all to see that I was off-limits. Sir Dresden, Winter Knight, was furious and I made no efforts to hide it. By the time we were announced to enter the ballroom proper I knew it had been a mistake for me to come.

Molly held nothing back. We walked through the double doors and her power rippled out across the room like a whisper, silencing conversations and drawing the eye of everyone there. Fog rolled off of the two of us and ice formed beneath her feet with each careful step. Her eyes shone with an eerie light and her face was set with a haughty smile like she was amused by the lesser beings before her. The animal inside of me raged at the bars of his cage, threatening to break free just from being near her, her power calling to mine.

Light laugher, sweet and innocent, drifted across the room on a summer breeze filled with the scent of tropical flowers and warm, sunny fields. The crowd parted to allow Lady Sarissa of Summer to make her way towards us. It had been a long time since I’d seen her, but she’d only grown lovelier. She wore a flowing gown of bright green and had daisies and pansies and a half dozen other flowers I couldn’t identify by name woven into her long white hair. Her feet were bare and flowers and moss grew where she stepped, spreading across the marble ballroom floor. Neither of the Ladies made any efforts to dampen their innate energies and I could feel them clash as Sarissa drew near. If either were bothered by it, they didn’t show it. Sarissa’s eyes sparkled like they were made of glitter as she smiled at Molly. “Lady Winter! How good of you to join us!”

“Lady Summer,” Molly’s voice was rich and sensual, the cool ringing tones of the Lady clear as day. She nodded her head in acknowledgment. “My Knight and I couldn’t miss the opportunity to celebrate with you.”

“Ah yes, Sir Dresden.” Sarissa’s sparkling eyes tracked over to me, sudden heat flooding my body. “I haven’t seen you in so long. I was starting to wonder if they’d ever let you out to play.”

It was, honestly, good to see her. Summer had had its way with her, just as much as Winter had with Molly, but even through her formal demeanor it seemed there was still some of the woman I’d briefly known lingering. But I was here to be Knight Dresden, so I just made a rumbling noise of acknowledgment. Unsurprisingly, that wasn’t a sufficient greeting for the Summer Lady, and the Winter Lady squeezed my arm and stared me down until I, ‘begrudgingly’, offered a short bow. “It’s been a while. But I’m here to play now, if that’s what you want, Lady Sarissa.” I hadn’t meant it to come out quite so threatening, but the power wafting through the room left Winter lurking just beneath the surface, fighting to come out in my every word and action.

“She’s being polite, Dresden.” Fix called from slightly behind her. Looking at him, I immediately got the impression that Sarissa had told him not to follow her over to our encounter, and he had obeyed but only barely, lingering nearby in case he needed to defend his Lady. “You stay away from her.”

His distrust hurt, but since my mantle was suggesting that I do several unspeakable things to Sarissa at that moment, I couldn’t hold it against him too much, and just scowled in his direction. “Peace, my Knight.” Lady Sarissa commanded, no less forceful for her dulcet tones. “They are my guests. I expect everyone to treat them as such.” She looked around the room curiously. “Is this not a party? Where is the music?” With a snap of her fingers, music started up and everyone resumed their conversations. Crossing the last few steps toward us with Fix just behind her, something relaxed between both Ladies. “I hate having to make official entrances. Isn’t it the worst?”

“The worst part of the job?” A slightly-less haughty Molly replied. “No. But it’s up there.”

Sarissa’s smile didn’t reach her eyes on that one. “Fair.” She looked back at me, and I almost smiled as Molly tightened her grip on my arm possessively, as if the Summer Lady would steal me away with just a glance. “I really was worried about you. I understand why you haven’t attended any of our Queen’s events but you’ve been absent even in your own Court, and you haven’t joined your Lady for any of our meetings. I would have expected you to at least have accompanied her to L.A. last month.”

“I've told you before, in Winter we feel our Queens are capable of carrying out our business just fine without our Knight interfering. Some meetings are too important to risk Sir Harry attending.” Molly replied. She sounded casual but the way her hand on my arm tensed made me wonder exactly what they'd been discussing last month and why I hadn't been invited.

“I’m not much for diplomacy,” I admitted, deciding this was a conversation for Molly and me to have later, in private. “Especially not when fairy politics come into play. No offense.”

“None taken.” She replied, amused. “I take it Mother insisted you attend?”

“We _couldn't_ miss this opportunity to celebrate with you,” Molly repeated wryly. “We’ll make enough of an appearance to make her happy and then leave. Sorry.”

“Nonsense, we live to serve our Courts. I must make the rounds. Please, eat, drink, enjoy yourselves.” She offered out her hand for Molly to shake, which I thought was odd until I saw Molly's eyes widen just slightly and watched the way she curled her hand when Sarissa let go. “Don't leave too quickly, I'd love to talk with you later.” The Summer Lady disappeared into the crowd, leaving me with a multitude of questions I couldn't ask in our current setting. Molly looked up at me but offered no explanation for either L.A. or whatever Sarissa had just slipped her during their handshake, so I said nothing in return. 


	9. Chapter 9

I'm not a party guy at the best of times. I don't like forced socialization and pretending to care about inane conversation with strangers. Doubly so when most of those strangers aren't human. Triply so when I'm just there to be arm candy for my half-naked girlfriend while she flirts outrageously with anything with a pulse. Oddly, I probably had a better time since I was there as the Knight. I was worried at first that I was laying it on too thick, glowering and scowling at anyone who so much as glanced my way. But no one seemed surprised. Apparently I had a reputation for being a rude, angry thug and I played to the part.

I stood through twenty minutes of Molly simpering, vamping and teasing and did my best not to let it bother me. Even when her advances became pretty aggressive and her come-ons more direct. It wasn't until she singled out one particular Summer sidhe, that I grew suspicious. Even I was observant enough to note that Molly had a 'type'. Somewhere along the line, she'd developed a taste for tall men with dark hair, dark eyes and a sense of humor. Not sure where that came from, but this guy fit the bill. He was a ponce, pretty and refined, and I wanted him to die almost immediately. The only thing that kept me from acting on the urge was that, for some reason, my girlfriend was very obviously using him to try to piss me off.

The moron had a bad habit of not keeping his hands to himself, but since Molly was practically throwing herself at and on him, placing a hand on his chest, stroking his cheek, I didn't rip his hands off his body. I couldn't figure out what she was doing, or why, but I watched her watching for my reaction, felt her power unrestrained as if she was trying to draw the Knight out. I let her do it, trusting there was a reason, but I didn't have to like it.

“Dresden!” Fix bellowed, storming his way across the room and saving me from having to punch a wall as Molly turned doe-eyes up at her target, chewing on her bottom lip like she did when she was really turned on by something. I fell into a defensive stance, calling power to me while I waited for my technical-nemesis. “What did you do?”

“I don't know what the hell you’re talking about.” I snarled, honestly.

“My Lady asked me to fetch her a drink while she came to talk with you, and now she's nowhere to be found. What have you done to her?”

Interesting. I hadn't seen Sarissa since her odd encounter with Molly when we first arrived. Suspicions started forming in my mind about this obvious distraction, but I could see Fix was not in a position to be reasoned with and I was feeling a little unreasonable myself. So I let Sir Dresden handle it, feeding into the distraction while searching as subtly as I could to find who or what I was supposed to be distracted from. “What, afraid that she might find out what a real man is like and let you go?”

“Oh please.” Sir Fix scoffed, disgust dripping from every word. “She'd never sleep with you.”

I thought of a night that seemed like it was an eternity ago when she'd have come to my bed if I'd demanded it, maybe even if I'd just asked. She hadn't wanted to, but she would have. I suspected Fix didn't know that though and I let a wicked grin split my face. “Maybe not willingly.”

“You’re disgusting. Where is she?”

“I already told you. I don't know what you're talking about.” I was growling by that point, and still scanning the room when I noticed something was off. My anger had receded some but more importantly… I looked over my shoulder and confirmed my suspicions – Molly was gone.

“And I'm supposed to take your word on it, Winter?” Fix was close, ready for a fight.

“I don't give a flying fuck what you do, friend,” I told him dismissively, turning my back on him in my search for Molly. I didn't see her, but the idiot she'd been flirting with was still there. “My Lady. Where is she?”

Pretty-boy opened his mouth to answer, but a thick hand closed on my shoulder, turning me around. “We’re not done here!” Fix practically spat in my face.

“Yeah. We are.” I told him firmly. “Your problems are not my problems, so piss off.”

I tried to talk to Pretty-boy again but Fix chose that moment to shove me. “I'm making it your problem, Dresden.”

“I'm not fighting you tonight, Fix.” I shook my head. “You wanna spar? You have my number, call me tomorrow and we'll set a date. But I'm not kicking your ass in front of all of these people at your Mistress’s party.”

“Did I ask you? Tell me where she is or I'll–”

I don't know why he was expecting a fair fight. _I_ knew that I wouldn't have fought him dirty if he’d given me a choice, but I also knew I would never do anything to harm Sarissa or even Fix for that matter if I could avoid it. Either way, he wasn't expecting my right hook and he wasn’t prepared for it, tripping over his own feet and falling as he recoiled. I waited until he was no longer disoriented before catching his eyes. Well, his eye. The other one was already swollen and would be sporting a shiner in no time. “Let me repeat, Summer Knight, I am _not_ fighting you here and now. I don't know where your Lady is, but I promise you, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I'm going to go find Lady Molly. If you try to start a fight with me again, I _will_ end it.” I wanted to offer him a hand up, but the Court was watching and I was the Winter Knight so I spit on the ground near him, turned on one heel, glanced at Pretty-Boy who just muttered 'bathroom’, and stalked off to find my errant boss/girlfriend.

The women's restroom was empty (the clearest evidence around that the guests at this party weren't human) and I wasn’t surprised. Fix's arrival had been a little too conveniently timed. Sarissa had gone mysteriously missing just before Molly. I smelled treachery. Well hey, had I ever attended a supernatural party without someone being held hostage? And Titania had made it perfectly clear in the past that she'd kill me for killing her daughter. It had been necessary but I'm not sure I could blame her – that is unless she’d gotten Molly involved.

The bar had the best vantage point, tucked in a corner, and with a convenient excuse for not moving from it. I asked for a Coke in a rocks glass with a drink stirrer in it and asked the confused bartender to keep 'em coming. I'd barely been there five minutes when two pieces of obvious bait dangled themselves in front of me. The pair were gorgeous, or at least their glamor was gorgeous. I wasn’t willing to get a look at the real creatures underneath. If I was a younger guy I might have fallen for it, the way the one 'accidentally’ bumped into me, her hand on my arm and 'oh, aren't you the Winter Knight? You must be so dangerous.’ I'd done this tap dance before and knew it would end with being poisoned or kidnapped and tortured or torn apart – something awful. Insanely hot women don't make a habit of throwing themselves at me unless they're trying to kill me, hire me for something that will likely kill me, or both. Except for Molly, but something's not right with that girl.

But I had no leads in the case of where the hell Molly had gone, and these two seemed as good a place as any to start, so I gave them what they wanted. They had heard rumors about me, most of them either untrue or technically true but not really accurate, and all seemed in keeping with the idea that I was just Lloyd Slate with better magic, so I leaned into it. I downed several glasses of Coke in rapid succession, and the more I drank the more I 'let my guard down’. Glass five found me with the two women draped on either side of me. They were sisters, apparently, and they were happy to let me know that they shared everything. _Everything_.

They were very forward, but they didn't move quickly and I had to work harder, draw on Winter more and more to try to hurry it along. I groped and teased and made sure my speech was slurred slightly. “Is it too late to switch teams? I think I'm missing out. Summer girls are so much friendlier.”

“Why don't you follow us, Sir Knight?” The one on my right purred. “We'd be happy to show you just how friendly we can be.” _Finally,_ I thought, while the girl to my left took my hand, dragging me toward the shadowed recesses of a nearby hallway.

“Since when are the Sidhe shy?” I laughed, keeping up the bit and going along with them. “Why can't we get to know each other right here?”

“We don't want your Lady getting jealous, now do we?” Lefty said.

I laughed again, channeling every ounce of vulgar chauvinism I could manage (I've been informed that’s 'a fuckton' by both Molly and Karrin) into the brash sound. “Lady Winter’s jealousy is her problem. I may be her Knight, but my body doesn't belong to her.” I kissed Lefty lightly, and I think for a second she was torn about whether or not she wanted to go through with the plan. “And there's plenty of me to go around.” I leaned over to give Righty a bit of attention as well and smiled at how wide and eager her eyes were, then she was suddenly gone.

The good news was I found Molly. The bad news was this really wasn’t what it looked like and what it looked like was bad. If I had any doubts about how bad it looked, they were put to rest at the sight of the Winter Lady in full force, pinning Righty to a nearby column with one hand around her throat. “I assure you, my jealousy is the least of your concerns.” I wouldn’t have recognized the voice as Molly’s if I hadn’t watched the words come from her lips. “What’s in the hallway?”

“Lady Winter, please–” she started to squeak out. Lady Molly lifted her in order to slam her back against the column again, violently enough that the floor shook from the impact.

“Try again. The hallway. Why are you luring my Knight there?” The woman (or womanoid creature, not entirely sure what she was) tried to form words but couldn’t. Glowing azure eyes turned toward the choked girl’s sister. “Your friend seems to be a little tongue-tied. Answer for her, and make sure it's the correct answer.”

“Can't handle a little competition?” I sneered, wrapping one arm around Lefty's shoulders. Sure she’d probably been trying to kill me, but I didn’t want to watch Molly kill her instead, and she looked perfectly capable of it. Not to mention, if I didn’t defend them now I’d blow my cover. I was pretty sure it was in our best interest for the Summer Court to see me as Lloyd Slate Jr. I looked down at the trembling fae beside me. “You don’t have to answer her, she’s not your Queen.”

If Molly hadn’t completely lost control before, she did then. Her withering stare literally chilled me to the bone, old wounds aching in the cold. “By all means, don’t answer me. I’m sure this lovely young thing doesn’t need all of her bones intact. After all, you can still take your fill of her whether she’s breathing or not, can’t you, my Knight?”

Holy shit. She believed it. She honestly believed I was stupid enough to think their offer was honest and scummy enough to be unfaithful to her with them. That's what this was. The tenuous grip I had on my mantle started slipping, Winter surging up through the cracks, feeding my anger, numbing the pain of human emotion. “I prefer it when they can still scream. You know that well enough. My Lady.”

Molly let out a howl of rage and flung the girl she was holding halfway across the room. She landed in a motionless pile of limbs and I could only hope we hadn't just caused the first casualty in a Faerie war. It was a small comfort that it wouldn't be my fault this time – just my insanely jealous, irrational girlfriend. She strode over to us, looming menacingly over the Summer fae. “Tell him, whore. Tell him what you have planned.”

“How do you –“ she started.

“Tell him!” She shrieked in a banshee wail that carried with it a biting wind, strong enough that I had to hold the smaller woman steady with a hand at her back to keep her from blowing away.

The girl looked between the two of us, fearful, but eventually decided that Molly was the more dangerous of the two. I hid my face behind a mask of cold anger, knowing that if I let Molly see the hurt, the betrayal I felt at her distrust, I'd crumble entirely. So I fed the Knight, embraced it, and in turn my anger fueled me. “Th-there’s nothing in the hallway.” I gave Molly a smug look. It was satisfying to see her on the receiving end of fairy word games.

“They wouldn’t need anything else,” Sarissa said in her beautiful lilting voice. I hadn't seen her approach but she stood behind Molly now. “These two are quite capable of dispatching any man foolish enough to follow them into an isolated location without outside assistance.” She stared directly at the woman in the crook of my arm. “Go now. Take your sister. I will address your transgressions anon.”

The girl didn't need to be told twice, hurrying away with her sister (thankfully on her feet again) in tow without looking back. “Moron. You filthy stupid degenerate moron!” Molly shouted, slapping me across the face before I could even see it coming. “Embarrass yourself all you want, but when you're on duty I expect you to use that rock you call a brain and not embarrass our Court!”

I’d stopped acting somewhere along the way, and I had no more control over my mouth than I did over the weather at that moment. “Like you haven't been throwing yourself at everything in sight since the moment we walked in the door. Lady Sarissa’s the only thing you haven't tried to sleep with and I wouldn't put that past–”

She didn't move or speak, but an invisible something slammed into the front of me, stealing my breath and knocking me flat on my ass on the marble floor. She eyed me like I was lower than a worm to her, and my blood boiled, ready to tear flesh from bone. “Watch your tongue, Dresden.” The Winter Lady commanded. “If I have to remind you of your place in view of all of Summer I will do so, but I promise you won't like it.”

“I am truly sorry for the incivility and disrespect that has been shown to you this day, Lady Molly.” The Summer Lady said, her eyes too hard for her delicate face. She was talking to Molly but her voice carried enough for the assembled crowd that had formed to hear her clear as day. “There are some in my Court that would rather place the blame for past tragedies on the victims rather than the culprits, and some who cannot distinguish one Knight or Lady from another. Let me be clear – I hold neither you nor your Knight responsible for the actions of your predecessors, and I hope you will return the favor. I expect the same from my Court and will not tolerate any further discourtesy toward you while you are my guest, either tonight or any other night.”

The two little Queens curtsied daintily to each other. “My thanks, Lady Sarissa. But I fear we've already imposed on your hospitality overmuch this evening. My Knight and I will be going. A blessed Imbolc to you.” Lady Winter snapped her fingers at me as I struggled to my feet. “Come.” She didn't look back or wait, knowing that I had no choice but to follow her command. For now.

I was incoherently furious. I’m surprised the car even worked with me behind the wheel. I really shouldn’t have been behind the wheel. Rage and shame and the deep hurt of her distrust burned through me. I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, my head a haze of violent thoughts. Beside me, Molly was in a similar state, still letting her power waft around the car, egging on the Winter storm in my chest. I tried to rein myself in, to pull back from the Knight, but my emotions were out of control and so was I. I wanted to rip her apart. I wanted to make her feel this pain, to hurt her for hurting me. I wanted her writhing beneath me, screaming and… I also wanted her. I wanted to claim her again. I wanted to feel her jealousy, her anger, her lust and to know it was mine. She might be my Queen in public, but she didn’t control me in private. I swerved into a narrow alleyway and shoved the car into park.

I took several heaving breaths, trying to talk myself down from the precipice I was about to jump from. Our energies clashed and broiled and some part of me knew this was a recipe for disaster. _Get out of the car. Take a walk. Calm down_. It was good advice. Maybe someday I’ll learn to listen to myself. Instead, I pounced on her like a starved wolf, desperate for flesh and heat. She met me with her own fire, her own fury and we were a blur of violent passion. I shoved her backward over the gearshift until she was tumbled into the backseat and I climbed my way over after her. I tore at her clothes, groping her savagely, roughly. Her nails scored my back, my face, fingers yanking at my hair as she caught my mouth, pulling my lip through her teeth. Limbs and fingers and skin and the heat of her mouth on my body, the taste of her on my tongue. We were caught somewhere between sex and destroying each other and we both wanted more of it.

With no small amount of struggling she finally managed to free me from the confines of my pants, and we must have settled on sex because she guided me to her and when I sheathed myself in her we both groaned in pleasure. Our eyes met, both cold and seething and we watched each other as I thrust roughly in and out, over and over. “I’m not your dog.” I snarled, finally unable to keep it contained.

“Mm. But you still – ah – have to come when Iiiii call, don’t you?” She gasped out.

“You’re a real bitch sometimes,” I growled, too incensed (among other things) to come up with a pithy retort. “You know that?”

“That's Queen bitch to you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, that _is_ what you're doing.” She said as condescendingly as possible. “That's good for an idiot like you.”

“I'm not a fucking idiot!” I can take a lot of insults without batting an eye, but everybody has their buttons, and she’d just hit the big red one on my console that makes me go nuclear. I swear on my power I was aiming for the seat. I balled up my fist and threw it with the weight of my full body behind it. I saw her move her head like it was in slow motion, the blank seat replaced by her pale white cheek, but it was too late to stop myself, too late to even pull the punch, and I felt my knuckles crack against her cheekbone with horror. I saw the spread of emotions flashing across her face – shock, fear, pain – and it almost jolted some sense back into me. But then Lady Molly gave me a bloody grin, still full of that same haughty condescension and I slipped right back into madness.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Apparently.” I sneered, pumping my hips hard enough that the car shook and creaked with the force. “Did you really think I didn't know? That I was just going to – umph – sneak off with two strange – ungh – Sidhe expecting them to fuck me? How fucking dumb du-do you think I am?”

“You seemed pretty. Mmmph. Pretty intent on it. When I showed up.”

“I was. Fuck. I was looking. Fuh-for you. Wouldn't. Uh. Other women.”

“Why?” She gasped. “You don't belong to me, right?”

“No. I don't. Not when you’re the Lady.” I wrapped one hand around her throat as I had when we were playing back in the cabin. This wasn’t play. I wanted to feel her pulse race. I wanted her to hear me, and to know that no matter what she thought, I didn’t want to hear it. There would be bruises on her neck before we were done, and that suited me just fine. “I watched you all night. Watched you touch and tease, flaunting yourself, ready to whore yourself out for whichever Summer noble would have you.” I tightened my grip, as hard as I dared without risking breaking something on her. “But I didn't stop you, because I know what you really are. No matter what you say. No matter what you do.” She stared up at me, helpless, speechless, desperate and wanting. I delivered the words I knew would send her over the edge, the truth of exactly what she was underneath the ice and snow and anger and posturing. “You’re mine.”

I let go of her throat, not willing to deprive myself of the rapture of her cries of pleasure. And she didn’t disappoint, the entire car filled with her voice, a little rough and caught somewhere between agony and ecstasy as I fucked her to completion and came right after her. When the haze of lust lifted, it took most of the anger and tension from us both as well, until it was just us, just Molly Carpenter and Harry Dresden, half-naked and awkwardly contorted in the backseat of my car. Molly must have reached the same conclusion because, in the silence that followed our heavy breathing, she started laughing and I found myself smiling ruefully back at her. “You’re damn right I am.” She told me. “Just as much as you’re mine, you liar.”

“Mm,” I grunted. “I didn't lie. I don't belong to the Winter Lady. I belong to you, to Ms. Molly Carpenter. The Lady's just along for the ride.”

“We’re the same person, idiot.” She pushed lightly at my shoulder. “Get up. I can’t feel my legs.”

“Oh boohoo. You aren’t folded like a human accordion.” In the end, I had to crawl out of the back passengers' side door and walk around to the driver’s seat. I could not for the life of me tell you how I had managed to contort myself in such a way that I managed to get into the back in the first place. I guess you can never underestimate the lengths the human male will go to get laid. Someone had torn Molly’s dress in a way that made sitting up impractical if we wanted to avoid an indecent exposure ticket (says the guy who just had back-alley car sex, I guess) and she didn’t look like she wanted to move much anyway, so she stayed in the back, reclined across the seats.

“Are you okay?” I finally asked, glancing at her in the rearview as I started the car. “Your cheek…I didn’t…is anything broken?”

“No.” She told me after a bit of prodding. “You worry too much. It's okay to let go like that, you know. I know you didn't mean to hit me, but even if you had…Winter is made for violence. I'm not afraid of the Knight and you shouldn't be either. I've told you before, I want the same things. It's okay.”

Did I actually want those things? I had at the time but…my stomach churned. Still, I nodded. “I'll keep that in mind.” I drove in silence. Now that the anger had burned away, I could think a little clearer and the more I thought, the more I didn’t like the clearer picture I was getting. Not to mention that without the anger there was nothing to insulate me from the sting of humiliation and indignation over her believing my act. It was one thing when the world thought of me as a big, dumb thug. I thought Molly knew me better than that. Then again, I was starting to suspect there were a lot of things I thought about her that I was wrong about. We were almost home when I lost the argument with myself over whether or not to let her keep her secrets. “What did Sarissa want?”

“Pardon?” I ground my teeth. She'd said it like she hadn't the slightest clue what I was talking about and it pissed me off more than if she’d just lied, or misdirected, whatever you want to call fairy lies. 

“Give me some credit, Molly. I saw your face when she shook your hand. She palmed something to you. Since she disappeared a minute before you did, I assume she gave you a meeting time and place. She told Fix she was coming to talk to me, knowing he'd start a fight when he couldn't find her, thus leaving us both occupied so you two could slip out unnoticed.” We sat at a stoplight, and I glanced back at her in the rearview. “I'm not one of your nobles. Don't play dumb with me. I know better and I deserve better.”

At least she had the decency to look chagrined. Even if that didn't carry into her response. “If we’d wanted you to know, we wouldn’t have snuck off.”

“You _shouldn’t_ have snuck off. I know you’re capable of defending yourself but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry, and –”

“Oh yeah, you looked really worried when I found you, drunk and fawning all over some Summer harlots, almost letting yourself get dragged off, probably to be drugged and taken straight to Titania.”

I huffed out a bitter, derisive laugh. “Do I seem drunk right now, as I'm _driving_ us home _?_ More importantly, do you really think I’m dumb enough to believe that they wanted to drag me off for sex? Since you went missing at roughly the same time Fix came over to distract me, I was worried that someone from Summer had snatched you. I was scanning the room to see if I could pick up your trail when those two nymphs or whatever came on to me. I thought whoever kidnapped you might be behind them too, so I did my best Lloyd Slate impression and hoped they gave me a lead. It wasn’t until that little show Sarissa gave before we left that I realized you were in on it the whole time.” I let her stew on that for the remaining two blocks before pulling into the drive and parking. “So yeah, I _was_ really worried when you found me.”

I got out of the car and moved around to open her door, tossing my duster in without quite looking at her. I'd come down too hard on her and I knew it and I was too much of a coward to face her guilty eyes. She gave me a questioning look. “Everyone is probably asleep, but I assume you still don’t want to walk from here to the house half-naked, yeah?”

“Thank you.” She mumbled, deflated. How could she go from looking like the epitome of sensual power and total superiority over everyone around her to the same defeated, wilting, watery-eyed girl who tried to hide her sniffles and tears from me when she was still my apprentice? I sighed inwardly, knowing the answer was 'you, you schmuck’. I waited patiently for her to step out of the car, wrapped in the folds of my coat, and took hold of her hand, closing the door behind her. Molly kept her eyes turned down, watching her feet the entire walk from the car. “I'm sorry. I should have known better. I don't know what I was thinking.”

I snorted. “You _weren't_ thinking.” I squeezed her hand gently. “It's okay. I get it. I’m used to seeing you as Lady Molly, watching you flirt and tease, and even knowing that it’s an act, it’s still hard for me. I still get jealous. Not just Sir Dresden, Winter Knight but me. I don’t like to play my part and I rarely have to, so you don't have as much practice dealing with it.”

She considered it but still frowned. “Even so. I’m sorry.” She tittered nervously as we came up the porch steps. “And I was worried that _you'd_ make a scene.”

“I _did_ give Fix a black eye.” I pointed out “And I’d have done the same to that fop you were throwing yourself at if he kept forgetting to keep his hands to himself.” When we got to the front door, I stopped, considering Molly. We'd been together long enough now that I sometimes forgot how young she really was. For all her power, all her experience, at the end of the day she was still a young woman, in a relationship with a man who had, for a long time, rejected her. Was it really a wonder that she'd be insecure? I could choose to take it personally, to say she didn't trust me, but that wouldn’t fix anything, not in the moment and not long-term. But I had an idea of what might.

I lifted her chin with one finger until her sapphire eyes sparkled, wet and beautiful in the porch light. I gave her a gentle, tender kiss and felt her surge up against me. “I don't care what the Winter Lady thinks of the Winter Knight, as long as you know the truth.”

“Hmm. I think I do,” She said innocently. “But I just can't be certain until I hear you say it.”

“I see.” I smiled and kissed her again. “I love you.” Another kiss. “I respect you.” Another kiss. “I'm yours.” Another kiss. “And no one else's.”

“I know.” She said with a content sigh, and it sounded like she meant it. “I'm so damn lucky. I love, respect and belong to you too, you know?”

“I do.” I kissed the top of her head, opened the door and with a small mock bow, ushered her inside. 

The light was still on in the living room which wasn’t a surprise. Murphy had come over to watch Maggie while we were out. Molly, pulling my coat tighter around her, gave me a quick peck on the cheek and waved to Karrin before scampering up the stairs. Maggie was passed out on one end of the couch, while Murphy sat on the other, scowling at me. “Heya Murph. Thanks for looking after her.”

“She’s a good kid,” Karrin said quietly. “It's an easy thing to do.”

“Still, we appreciate it.” She grunted and continued staring at me like my teacher had just called home and told her I’d skipped school. I rubbed at the back of my neck. “It's been a crazy night. I’ll put her to bed. You can crash here if you want o-or head on home.”

“…You two get into a fight?”

“Something like that,” I admitted hesitantly.

“With Summer? Or each other?”

“Uh. A little of both, I guess.”

“And you’re going to tell me that some Summer thug gave her the bruise, right? Maybe the same one that left those claw marks on your face?” I looked up from the floor into eyes hard as agates. “Right, Harry?” I said nothing and she shook her head, standing up. “Go clean yourself up, Dresden. I'll put her to bed and see myself out.”

“I've got her, Murph,” I said, pleasant but firm. She didn't move, and when I repeated myself, it was less pleasant. “I've got her. Thank you.” I scooped up Maggie and when she started to stir I planted a kiss on her brow. “Shh. Everything’s okay, princess. Go back to sleep.” Whether from my words or just the sound of my voice, she settled against my chest.

“ _Is_ everything okay, Harry?” Murphy asked softly.

I sighed. “Sometimes work sucks. Bruises and scrapes? That's part of the uniform for me and Molls.” I looked down at Maggie, sleeping soundly in my arms and couldn't help but smile. “But here, at home? Yeah. Everything is perfect.”

Karrin continued frowning at me before finally looking away. “Get her to bed and then clean yourself up. A girl shouldn’t have to see her father like this.” She grabbed her jacket off the chair and started putting it on as she headed out the door. “Good night, Harry.”

I tried not to let her words bother me, wrapping myself in the warm happiness I felt as I tucked Maggie in then joined Molly for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends Part 3. I hope you liked it! We still have three more parts to go in this long, rambling, ~~desperate cry for help,~~ ~~sign that I need to be checked into a Dresden-specific rehab,~~ quest to ensure that Molly gets the happy ending she deserves (and I guess if Harry incidentally gets one too as a result, that's okay.) 
> 
> Next time we get:
> 
>   * cute, fluffy, romantic date things 
>   * some Dresden-style diplomacy 
>   * gratuitous amounts of porn, some of which is way too revealing about my weirdly specific fetishes 
>   * Several scenes that will play on the highlight reel of my life when I die and they explain why they invented a new wing of hell just for me 
>   * A ship that I didn't ship until I wrote it and now I can't unship it no matter how hard I try (other than the S.S. Harry/Molly of course)
> 



End file.
